


That was then, this is now

by 2Lot



Series: Dusk till Dawn [2]
Category: Criminal Minds, From Dusk Till Dawn (1996), From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series, Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Blackmail, Canon-Typical Violence, Crimes & Criminals, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Heist, Hostage Situations, Kidnapping, Lima Syndrome, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Sexual Bondage, Organized Crime, PTSD, Prison, Psychological Trauma, Road Trips, Stockholm Syndrome, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-06
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-15 18:53:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 86
Words: 192,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Lot/pseuds/2Lot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reid was never rescued after being kidnapped by the Gecko brothers, the trauma of which has left him with amnesia. The team thinks he is dead and he has no idea that the man he wakes up with is a wanted criminal who held him hostage. Instead he is led to believe that they were in a relationship. And Seth is still hopelessly infatuated with the good doctor, so naturally he isn't about to tell him. <br/>All could be 'good' until Seth's criminal past comes to haunt him.</p><p>Sequel to A Slightly Different Case From Dusk Till Dawn</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hello everybody! So here is the sequel to my story 'A Slightly different Case from Dusk till Dawn'. Sorry for the long wait, I know it's been almost a year. I hope someone still wants to read this anyway.

If you haven't read the first story, this will not make sense to you, so I suggest you go to the EDITED version and do that first if you're interested in this. 

For the rest of you, I have a vague plan for this. It will be a crossover with yet another Tarantino film -Reservoir Dogs- although I don't know yet how much of it I will bring into this story. I just need some interesting villains.

Alright, starting where we left off. Reid seemingly has some sort of amnesia after the traumatic deaths of his friends and the stress of getting kidnapped etc. Seth has yet to tell him that he is the one responsible for it all -I assume he will get around to it eventually- but for now, he's sorta kidnapped Reid yet again, taking him God knows where. 

Lastly, just so you're not confused: There will be jumps in this story, between past and present, flashbacks and flashforwards. They will be indicated accordingly.

l

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds, From Dusk Till Dawn and Reservoir Dogs do not belong to me. I do not make money from this. 

Warnings: Slash, possibly triggering content, violence, blood...nothing you wouldn't see in those movies. If you've seen the movies you'll know this can't be worse than that.

xxx

Preface

.

"Down! Get down on the ground!" Morgan yelled over the sound of the nearing police sirens.

He was swaying, bleeding and battered like all of them, but his hands around the gun were steady as ever as he pointed it at the men opposing him, all of their guns drawn in a deadly standoff. The look of determination on his face looked like it was carved in stone.

Whoever wanted to leave this room would have to go through him.

He knew it, they knew it.

Reid knew it and it made him feel sick with fear. He needed but one glance into the sweaty faces of the criminals around them, at their panicked expressions, to realize that they knew they had to act now if they wanted to escape at all. They police was almost there, their time was running out.

Reid felt his heart leap in panic at the thought.

They had nothing left to lose now. Not anymore. This wasn't about diamonds or money or revenge anymore.

There was a mount of dead bodies behind them and prison or death ahead of them. After everything they had done in the past 72 hours alone they wouldn't risk being incarcerated. They would do whatever they had to-

"Morgan!" he gasped, cold fear finally snapping him out of his stupor.

He pushed himself off the ground despite his protesting body, trying to keep a balance as he moved forward, towards his friend.

It was his fault Morgan was even in this situation; he had come looking for him and found fatal danger instead. He needed to save him somehow from what he knew was going to happen, consequences be damned, he had to –

Without warning, he was grabbed from behind and shoved to the floor again, buried under a heavy body and pinned by hard hands. He wheezed as he hit the ground hard, the breath knocked out of him.

"Reid!" Morgan screamed his name, the sound almost drowned out by the chaos and noise all around them. There was fear in his voice for the first time.

Reid fought to get back up with all his might, to get to him, but it was pointless. Just like always. He had always been stronger than him. "No!" he cried, thrashing. He couldn't move, he couldn't-

"Drop your gun or you're both dead!"

Someone else was yelling now…he couldn't tell who over the rushing of blood through his ears and the hammering of his heart.

All he heard were the following gun shots, tearing through him like a knife, then the bodies dropping to the ground.

"NOO!"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Looking back, the way it ends seems appropriate. Nothing else would make sense considering the beginning. 

Maybe, he thinks, if he had just tried harder, fought more, if he'd been stronger. If he'd just run even. Maybe it would have all ended differently. 

But then, he never really had a chance, had he? Not back when he had at least had somewhere to run to, and enough brain cells left to form a sane thought. Not later when there were no more physical restraints, no more tangible walls to conquer, unnecessary once he was trapped in his own spiraling mind. 

No, looking back it's almost ridiculously easy to see. Between Seth holding on to him by every means possible, dragging him back with desperate force every time he tried to make it stop, and himself who has somehow gotten so hopelessly tangled in all of it that the strings holding him captive are also the ones keeping him from falling, from breaking apart, there hasn't been an out in along time. 

There is a before -one he can remember vaguely as though it was another person's life- but no beyond and no after. Maybe there was once, at the beginning, maybe not. Maybe there never was any getting away from it; maybe it was fate. Cruel, twisted, ironic fate. He's never believed in any of that but he can't help but think of it now that the core of what's he's fighting has become as vital to him as oxygen. 

Maybe that's the most frightening of it all. How can he attempt to rid himself of something he needs, craves so desperately that its loss would mean his certain demise? 

He can't. 

He has probably known that for a long time, ever since it became impossible to sleep without Seth next to him, or to rest without his touch. He almost wants to laugh at how pathetic and ridiculous a shadow of his former self he has become. Feeble, blind, hopelessly addicted to what's killing him. 

There is no going back for him; no more choices to be made, not even now at the end, now that they are presenting him with empty words like future and hope. 

He knows that there is none of that for him anymore. Not after everything. 

He can't even feel regret as he looks into their hopeful faces. They don't understand. They are mourning someone who has died too long ago to matter. 

He closes his eyes, lets their voices rush past his ears. He won't tell them, won't hurt them more by trying to get them to understand what he is now. What he needs to do. They'll see soon enough. Maybe then, once they've seen the truth, they'll be able to let go of his ghost. 

If he can do it so can they.

Maybe he feels like crying then, for a brief moment. 

He doesn't. He's done enough crying for a lifetime. It is what it is. There's nowhere to go but down. 

At this point, he is almost anxious to. He's tired of fighting.

xxx

It took over five hours of driving without a break before Seth finally found the nerve to slow down and drive at least close to the speed limit, and even more time for him to stop compulsively looking over his shoulder.

It was mid day by then, the sun shining through the windshield brightly, a warm breeze coming through the open window. It was hot in Mexico, not a cloud on the sky, the empty road glimmering in front of him.

A perfect day.

He barely felt any of it, just barely aware enough of his surroundings not to crash the car.

He felt like he was caught in a dream, everything around him strangely surreal. The sun, the air, the fact that he was still breathing. Seth's hands were clenched around the steering wheel tightly, like he was afraid that if he let go everything would just fade away and he'd be thrown back into the nightmare he'd just emerged from.

Claws, reaching for him, blood, gore, screams...hellish eyes staring at him hungrily wherever he looked...

He shook his head harshly. In the bright light of day, those horrid memories, however fresh they were, really almost seemed like figments of a bad dream. Almost, if it hadn't been for the almost tangible sensation of unearthly screeching hurting his ears, of cold breath on his neck, that horrible feeling like any second something was going to come out of nowhere and grab him, tear him back into the cold and dark, back towards death.

Mangled corpses, bled out, on the floor, empty eyes staring towards the ceiling...his hands were sticky with blood, his brother's blood...somewhere close by he could hear screaming, a familiar voice that turned his blood to ice...

He breathed in deeply, forcibly shaking off those thoughts. It was over. Over. Behind him. He'd burned that fucking bar down to the ground along with everything in it. Nothing was going to come after him.

And he didn't actually care about those dead people, those cops.

Only Richard...

The memory of his little brother, first deformed into a monstrosity from hell, then dead at his feet, made him want to stop the car and empty his stomach in the side of the road where nothing else could.

He didn't though.

He had been calm and collected so far, every minute since he'd gotten out of that bar -he wouldn't let his nerves catch up with him now. And neither his emotions. He knew he needed to put it all behind him if he didn't want to go insane. He'd grieved for his brother back there already - if he started up again right now he wouldn't be able to function at all. Knowing himself, he'd stop somewhere and get drunk off his ass, either falling into a senseless coma for days or starting a fight with some clueless fuck who wouldn't know what hit him. Either way he would end up either dead or in prison again, captured after all in his carelessness.

For a moment, it was hard to remember why that would even matter.

Then, slowly, he looked over at the passenger seat and it came back to him. The kid.

Spencer was curled up against the door, his head fallen against the window. He hadn't opened his eyes or even moved an inch since they had started driving, probably unconscious rather than sleeping.

No wonder, the whole ordeal really had done a number on him…

Tangled strands of his hair had fallen into his face which was still ghostly white except for the blood splatters that covered it like tiny freckles. He could still remember how most of it had gotten there, the scenes flashing brightly before his eyes. Spencer had been so completely out of it by the end of it all, shaking, panicked, crying…

Now he was perfectly still though, his breathing soft and regular, his body relaxed. Again, like it had all just been a bad dream…

Seth gazed at him numbly, momentarily reminded of before, when they had been in the car together, driving to meet Richard. Spencer had been in bad shape already then, rattled from the latest near death experience, but he'd been fine compared to what came after. Seth himself had been brilliant compared to now. Looking back, it seemed almost surreal that his biggest problem then had been his inappropriate feelings towards his hostage and worry about his brother's reaction upon finding out.

Now, he didn't have to worry about either. Richard was gone. And he had completely lost control with Spencer, had lost himself... He faintly felt his stomach twist at the memory of what he had done.

Desperate hands digging into his shoulders, tears on his lips...bodies pressed together so closely that their racing heart beats became indistinguishable... 'Please, please...'

Seth swallowed hard, that image taking longer to shake than the others, also because it caused a disturbung mix of emotions to stir inside him. He managed somehow, knowing that he couldn't think about that right then, about what exactely had happened and just how damned he was because of it.

He had to be able to function right now, to keep a clear head if he wanted to get to safety.

At least he supposed that that was his plan here. So far he hadn't paid much attention to where he was even driving. After getting out of the bar, he hadn't really thought about anything other than getting as far away as possible from that place. He'd just gotten into the car and driven off aimlessly, something that was slowly becoming apparent to him now that he was actually looking at the road.

Safety? Was that what he was after?

Only hours ago, after Richard's death, he hadn't even been sure he wanted to live on at all. In a way, all that had kept him going then was...

He swallowed hard, his gaze grazing the sleeping young man next to him. He'd tried to save Spencer, a motive completely in line with the rest of the insane, obessive fixation his brain was cooking up since they'd met. He didn't even try to tell himself how idiotic any of it was or had been, knowing by now that nothing would change a thing about the facts. He didn't regret saving the kid, not for one second. The thought of him being dead-

He blinked slowly, trying to clear his head. Obviously, nothing had changed for him -except for the fact that he had let what had been festering inside him out and that he had in consequence possibly, definitely done something unforgivable. Again, he couldn't help but remember the kid's tears, his distraught state, his desperation...all mixed signals as he'd clung to him...

It had felt nearly real enough to believe he hadn't taken something that would have never been his. Very nearly. Even now, he almost wanted to believe it. That Spencer had wanted it. Him.

But he knew that even if that was partially true, that what he'd done was possibly the worst crime he'd commited against the agent in all their time together.

He knew that. Intellectually knew it. Maybe, he liked to think, maybe if the kid had woken up outside of the bar, crying and in pain and hating him for taking advantage like that -then maybe he wouldn't have made it all even worse by taking him with him.

But it hadn't been like that. There hadn't been another meltdown, not even the inevitable tears at remembering his friends...

Instead, he had gotten –yes, what? He still wasn't sure exactly.

The kid hadn't remembered.

He didn't know how, but he just hadn't. He'd seen it in his eyes even before Spencer had told him. There had been nothing there of his usual expression, no fear, no shame upon seeing him, no guilt and none of the expected agony over his friends' deaths, no hatred for Seth…just confusion and exhaustion, slight worry maybe. Nothing more.

It had taken Seth all but ten seconds to go from worried to deeply relieved. He knew it was utterly inappropriate, after all he didn't know if Spencer's state was reason for concern, if something was wrong with his head or if it was just due to the acute stress and would pass –he didn't understand much about those things.

But touching the kid's face, and hearing him say his name…his name…so, so... it had erased everything else from his mind.

Spencer had always looked at him with so much pain and desperation and distress in his eyes. Seeing that gone suddenly, and seeing him look actually...comforted by his touch instead of instinctively flinching away…

Before he'd known it he'd had Spencer in the car, driving off with him. No question of whether to go on at all at the prospect of having the kid with him...

It was only now that his head was clearing some that he realized what he was actually doing. That he had essentially just kidnapped him for the second time. That Spencer wouldn't want to be anywhere near him once he woke up and got his head straight. That there was nowhere to go from here -at least not for the two of them together.

Because really, what was his plan here?

Of course he couldn't keep the kid with him against his will, not considering where he was going and especially not with how their relationship would be after...everything. And to hope for anything else was ludicrous. He gripped the steering wheel more tightly, telling himself that he knew that, had known that...and that wasn't what he'd been planning to do at all.

No, of course not.

He'd had no choice, was all. He couldn't have left the kid in the desert on the assumption that the feds would find him in time. He would have died out there... And he couldn't have just dropped him off somewhere once he woke up either.

He looked at a street sign as it flew by and frowned. Just as he'd assumed. They weren't anywhere near the US border - not like Seth could show his face there- and none of the other agents had made it. He couldn't just leave Spencer here by himself, especially not in his current state.

He looked back at the street again, trying to think a little clearer long enough to figure out directions. No, he had been right doing what he'd done, for once at least. He would find somewhere to hide out until he came up with a plan for his future and he would take the kid there with him until he was sure he'd be alright. He owed him that at least after everything.

Right. Spencer would have to understand that...maybe not right away but-

A hiding place. Somewhere the cops wouldn't find them. If they were even still looking. Now that he thought about it, it was entirely possible that once the BAU would be declared dead by their colleagues finding the bar burnt down, people would simply assume that he too was dead.

All the better...

Wait, if that's the case, doesn't that mean they'll think Spencer is also dead? They won't even be looking-

He shook his head, refusing to finish that thought, afraid of where it might lead him to. Instead, he did his best to focus on the road and try to think of somewhere safe for the both of them to go.

For now he would just get them out of the desert.

He would figure everything else out later. Once it came to it.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2

He isn't scared when they come for him. Fear is for people who still have anything to lose. 

He closes his eyes as he waits, suddenly reminded of that faraway night in the bar when he was sitting in that bathroom, borderline suicidal, pondering whether there was any point at all in living on, only the thought of Spencer keeping him halfway sane. 

He isn't foolish enough to do the same thing now. 

He knows there is nothing for him beyond this point. Wherever he will go from here –even if they let him live- it will be someplace he won't ever see Spencer again, and this time he knows with perfect clarity that that is not something he will be able to move past, to live without. Even after everything that has crashed and burned around him, after seeing both of them destroyed by what he has done, even with what Spencer has become, what he has made him, he's still the light in a sea of ever oppressing darkness, his beacon, his raison d'être. 

Without him there is only darkness. Without him he might as well be dead.

He should feel afraid of losing him, he knows, but right then and there, with days lying between the last time they've seen each other and now, he can finally see clearly what he's known all along. 

He can't lose something he's never truly had. 

And being afraid of letting go of a mere illusion is just foolish. 

It hurts anyway. Like a bullet in his chest.

xxx

Night fell and Spencer still hadn't moved, utterly still in his seat while Seth took them further away from the bar mile by mile.

Slowly but surely, Seth was starting to worry about that, wondering if it was an exceptionally bad sign. Worried, he reached out, pressing two fingers to the kid's pulse point just to reassure himself he was alright. Startled, he realized how hot the skin under his fingers was.

Damn, the kid was burning up.

Was that why he wasn't waking up?

He frowned, lightly caressing Spencer's cheek again before taking his hand back and driving faster. The sooner they arrived, the better.

At least, he had finally thought of somewhere to go. An old acquaintance lived nearby. Not the best neighborhood or company –but then again, he wasn't either. It would be fine. He knew how to handle those people there. He'd just have to make sure Spencer was alright there until…well, whatever came after this night.

Another half hour later, he finally stopped in front of a familiar little brick house at the outskirts of a small village the name of which he'd forgotten.

He looked out the windshield as he killed the engine, thinking about the last time he'd been here. It had been with Richie, back before prison. Carlos, the owner, was a middle-aged Mexican in the business of harboring small theft criminals and supplying them with whatever they needed for their jobs. The house was far off enough to not be noticed by the cops but close enough to the border to be interesting to all sorts of shady people. Carlos lived well on offering overpriced rooms and foods to them while they laid low.

Seth got out of the car.

Maybe he was still in business. But even if not, the guy still owed him for this and that –he would have to take him in even without payment. Not like he wouldn't be able to pay. He thought of the suitcase he'd taken from the BAU jeep –they wouldn't miss the ransom money and technically it had been intended for him anyways. Which didn't mean he'd waste it on Carlos.

Speaking of the devil, just then the front door of the house opened and a wrinkled, dark face peeked out, almost unidentifiable in the dark. "Who's there?"

"The devil himself, come to pick you up, you lowlife son of a bitch," Seth scoffed. He felt dead tired, and frankly nervous about standing outside in the darkness, but he made an effort to be enough of his usual self to be recognizable.

"Seth? Holy hell, is that really you?" Carlos hurried out onto the street at the sound of his voice, a wide grin on his face, "Fuck, man. You been on the news constantly!"

He walked up to him, quickly eyeing the car, then the road they'd come on, "You don't have any feds tailing ya, do you?"

Seth shook his head, "Nope, lost 'em. I need to stay here for a while though, just until the whole thing's blown over."

"Sure, sure, my friend," Carlos was quick to shake off his worries, "Come on in, I always have room for you."

He made to guide him towards the house but Seth stopped him, jerking his chin towards the car. "I'm not alone."

"Richie with you?"

"No." He shook his head, swallowing down the tension he was suddenly feeling as he walked over to the car, opening the door on the passenger side. Carlos followed him over and cursed under his breath when he looked at Spencer.

"Shit, isn't that-?"

Before he could say anything else, Seth grabbed his arm hard, fixating him intently with the darkest expression he could muster. "Can I count on you?"

It worked, like always. Carlos wasn't a man with great nerves, or vast amounts of courage. He held up his hands reassuringly.

"Sure, man. Hey, you know you can trust me. Not one word is gonna leave my lips. If you want, no one is ever going to find him again…"

"No," Seth might have shaken his head a little too quickly, but at least his dark expression remained, "No. He needs a doctor and a bed."

"He with you?" Carlos asked, now looking slightly confused by his demeanor. He looked over Spencer's bloodied face and clothes, then did the same with Seth's, but kept his mouth shut about it.

"Not exactly," Seth evaded him, looking down at the kid, "Look, I'll figure it all out in the morning. I'll make sure he won't be any trouble."

"If you say so, man," Carlos shrugged after a moment of indecision and eyeing Seth's passenger warily.

Secretly relieved, Seth just nodded and bent down to maneuver Spencer into his arms, trying not to shake him too much. The young man's head fell against his neck and Seth automatically cradled him closer, fighting to keep a blank face in front of Carlos.

Ignoring Carlos' puzzled expression, he carried him over to the house, following the Mexican into a spare room in the back of the house with no windows and a simple bed as the only furniture. He put his light charge down on it carefully, pulling the blanket over him. Then he bent over the bed to feel Spencer's temperature again, frowning when he realized it seemed to have gone up and that his breathing seemed a little off as well.

He could feel Carlos' eyes glued to his back though and so he straightened up quickly, keeping on his dispassionate face. Luckily it seemed to work as Carlos' expression quickly went back to normal. Whatever he was getting from what he was seeing, it apparently wasn't disconcerting enough to him to call Seth out on it.

All the better. Seth needed them to be able to stay here but he didn't think he'd have the energy to get into an argument or fight right now.

"You know a doctor you can trust around here?"

"One that will make house calls and not blab about who his patients are? Sure. I'll call him now."

"Great," Seth nodded as they walked toward the door, clapping the smaller man on the shoulder in a familiar gesture, "In the meantime have you got anything to drink in this sad excuse for a house?"

Carlos laughed, distracted from Spencer easily enough. "Glad to see you haven't changed one bit, amigo. I have just the thing."

Seth didn't reply as he followed the man into a tiny, dimly lit kitchen. It was about as chaotic as the rest of the house, with used dishes and empty bottles all over. In the hallway there had been several jackets and shoes, tipping him off to the presence of other visitors, and contraband poorly hidden in every corner.

Just like he remembered.

Here, in the kitchen, at a small table were two men, both burly and in shabby clothes, their faces obscured by the shadows. They only looked up briefly when he walked in, then went back to ignoring everything around them. Carlos did just the same, searching around a little until he found a half empty liquor bottle and two glasses.

He nodded his head towards the terrace, motioning for Seth to follow him. "Come on," he said, "While we drink you can tell me what the hell happened to you."

Seth followed him silently, suddenly feeling terribly exhausted. What had happened to him? He wouldn't know where to start.

How as he supposed to explain something he didn't even understand himself?


	4. Chapter 4

Of course he didn't tell Carlos the whole story. Not even close.

It would have been stupid and pointless. Seth knew that no matter where he would go in his life from now on -no one else would ever believe that story. They'd sooner lock him into a mental institution.

On top of that, Carlos wasn't someone he trusted per se. An acquaintance that went way back, yes, but that meant little to nothing in his world, except maybe that the man was just as crooked as he.

No. He knew where he was at here and it wasn't among friends. Especially not with all those other thugs and low lives hanging around and a bounty on his head. He wouldn't be able to relax with any of them around -but he'd had nowhere better to go so there hadn't been a choice. He would just have to be careful, stay alert.

Normally, he and Richie would have kept wake in shifts in a case like this. As it was, he was alone.

It was almost frightening how easy it was to go back to his old routine despite that fact, even with the glaring gap of Richie by his side, having his back. He acted like he always did. No-nonsense attitude but good company nonetheless, just enough that the man didn't notice how concerned he was about always having a wall in his back, or how often his eyes flickered to the night sky, and then back to the house, to where the kid was.

No matter how exhausted and beat and rattled he really felt, this was no place to show that kind of weakness. So he stayed calm on the outside and told the man as much as necessary between old drinking stories, downing liquor with him until he felt pleasantly numb. Not drunk of course, as much as he might have wanted to. He couldn't afford that.

In the end, Carlos only found out that he'd run into trouble in some bar, that Richie was dead and that he needed the kidnapped FBI agent in the house alive and well, that he wouldn't cause any trouble like running or alerting the cops to this place. He didn't elaborate on the reasons, simply letting Carlos assume what he would. His own safety was all the man would really care about in the end anyway. He knew that normally he wouldn't have allowed him to stay here under those circumstances –too risky if the police was searching the area- but apparently he was at least somewhat convincing in his promises and, well, Carlos did owe him. Big time.

Although his nerves were wearing thin, he kept the conversation shallow until finally the doctor showed up. Then he watched the nervous old guy fuss over the kid with a rusty stethoscope and swabbing alcohol, his scowl deepening with every second once he realized that the doctor wasn't paying much attention to the fever, more concerned with the wild array of scratches and bruises he was being presented with. While he was working he kept shaking his head, murmuring into his beard as he touched discolored skin and abrasions carefully. In between he kept stealing reproachful glaces at Seth.

Seth stared down at the bed motionlessly, seeing what the doctor was seeing and finally unable to keep memories from flashing in front of his eyes.

'Please, Seth, stop-' Another wince as his fingers dug into fair skin with too much force, a pain filled gasp, frightened eyes… 'Let go, please…'

Richard's fingers, sharp claws tearing open that same skin, Spencer, screaming…

He shook his head harshly. Not now.

It didn't help. Suddenly, it was too much.

"Out," he rasped.

He needed to be alone, didn't want that man here. He didn't need someone to tell him how things looked, how guilty he looked, or was. He barely waited until the doctor had patched up the worst before he threw him out without another word. Carlos looked mildly put off but didn't protest.

He waited till the door was closed then he shrugged, indifferent, "Forget him, eh? Ain't like he hasn't seen worse running with us. He's not gonna say anything." He scratched behind his ear, quiet for a moment. "Now, Seth, I hate to bring this up again, but ya know, I can't have this boy running around the neighborhood, drawing attention-"

"Does he look like hes gonna go anywhere anytime soon?" Seth snapped, irate.

Carlos grimaced, undeterred, "Ya know what I mean. Whatever you want him for, I don't care, man, but here, lemme sleep a little calmer tonight, alright?" With that he walked over the bed and half crawled under it before Seth could even think about stopping him. When he came back out he was holding a bundle of thick rope in his hand. He got to his feet and pushed it into Seth's hand. "Here ya go. Just in case, eh?"

Seth stared at the rope in his hand with a blank face, unmoving for almost a minute. His fingers clenched around it as he glanced over at the bed, his jaw tightening. "I'll see you tomorrow," he finally got out from behind clenched teeth. He didn't look up again, just waited until Carlos finally took the hint and left the room.

The second the door clicked shut, Seth all but rushed over to it, locking it from the inside. Then he sank against it, his forehead pressed against the thick wood, his hand balled to a fist against its surface. Keeping a frustrated scream inside, he threw his arm back, wanting to smash his fist into the wood. In the last second he stopped himself, instead throwing the rope in his hand across the room with all his strength.

Then he sank back against the door and closed his eyes, breathing heavily. Just breathing for a small fraction of forever, one hand clutching the door knob, the other the gun at his waist. Fuck, fuck, fuck! He tried to fight the sudden swell of rage mixed with panic, of sheer misery coming up, but it was filling his chest, cutting off his air-

-fine. You're fine. Calm down.

He couldn't. It was too hard to keep control anymore suddenly, to keep focus, to keep the disturbing memories off the forefront of his brain. It was all back suddenly, all merciful numbness gone in an instant.

The sound of impact as he pistol whipped the kid in the bank, seeing him being thrown to the ground, blood on his temple, his face first crunched up in pain, then in fear as he dragged him to his feet, pressed the gun to his throat and roughly tied his hands with duct tape...weak hands pushing at his as he let handcuffs snap shut around a thin wrist...

He was suddenly sure he was going to be sick. Motionlessly he stared straight ahead, to where the rope was lying. He wanted to feel outraged at Carlos' suggestion -but what else had he done so far? Coersion, blackmailing, outright bullying and terror. That was it. The extent of the relationship he had with the one person-

And now to make everything worse, he had dragged the kid here, into more danger, into the house of someone who wouldn't bat an eyelash if he never saw him leave said house alive again, who explicitly expected him to suffer more and didn't even care. He stared at the rope. There were stains on it, brown like dried blood...

Nothing was fine. How could anything be fine…?

It took forever before he thought he could move safely. Only then did he drag himself over to the bed, sinking down at the edge of it with much too heavy legs. Spencer remained motionless, oblivious, his breaths so flat that they were almost inaudible. In the grey light around them, he looked even paler than he had that morning, unsettlingly small and lost under the blankets.

Unable to stop himself, Seth found himself staring at the marks of abuse that the doctor had fussed over. They stood out in stark contrast to his skin, glaring reminders of what he'd done. He could account for them all. Inflicted by Richard, thugs, vampires, and him, but every single one caused by his actions.

The sight wiped away his last wall of defense, all blissful numbness definitely gone now. It felt like every nerve in his body was suddenly being lacerated. His hands clenched in the bed sheets as he stared at the kid with pain in his eyes and chest. God, what had he done. Never, never in his life had he felt emotions this intense for anyone who wasn't his family, never had he cared about anyone…and then, once he had, what had he done? This was the result of his infatuation, his obsession…

Unsteadily he reached up, tracing the outline of a cheekbone darkened by his very hand only days ago…

How had he ever managed to delude himself into thinking that what had happened between them in that bathroom would change any of this? What he had done back there was so much worse than the visible bruises even… His mind flashed back to Spencer, face flushed with heat and wet with tears as he tried to catch his breath, fingers digging into Seth's shoulders without him knowing if they were pushing or pulling…

He hadn't asked him for consent –not that the kid would have really been able to give any in his state- not after that first moment. It probably wouldn't have mattered if he'd said no verbally. After all, he'd known all throughout that the answer would be no, always no, if it weren't for the circumstances. It hadn't mattered. He had been unable to stop himself, almost as out of it as Spencer was, reason buried somewhere alongside his brother. He had just taken and taken, not thinking about the damage he was doing, just about what he needed-

He let himself sink forward until his forehead was resting on the covers, his burning eyes pressed closed tightly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into the darkness, "I didn't… shit. I know it means shit, kid, but I am. Wake up. You can wake up, I promise I won't…not anym-"

He broke off mid sentence. How often had he sworn to himself that he wouldn't hurt him any more? And in the end he still had. It was easy right now to mean it, with Spencer looking like this…so injured and helpless… But hadn't he also looked like that down in that bathroom? Of course he had, and still it had just overcome him-

He had to let Spencer go. He had to. If not he would only keep hurting him, and hurting him, and hurting him. He knew he would if he wasn't stopped.

He swallowed hard, fists clenching in the sheets. He'd told himself what he needed to do before, earlier in the car even, but he realized now that he hadn't meant it, hadn't really considered letting Spencer leave his side. Even now, as he was for the first time entirely aware of what he had done, there was still a small part inside of him that simply didn't care, that would result to using any means to tie the kid to him...in any way...

It would be so easy...in time he might just understand, might accept-

God...no...

He pushed himself upright hastily, suddenly not even daring to be touching the young man. How fucking sick was he?

It was all too much, the pain, the fatigue and sleep deprivation, the obvious trauma, the vampires, Richie, now this...

He sank down till he was sitting on the floor leaning against the bed frame. There he simply sat staring into the dark. There was no sleeping with all of it still so fresh in his head, every sound, every impression blazing on his mind, engrained into his body in such a way that every creak made his fingers clench around his gun.

He didn't try to sleep.

He just waited. For what he didn't know. For the kid to wake up, for someone to burst into that door, for it all to be gone with the next blink maybe. For an answer to what he was supposed to do come morning possibly. For it all to become less of a nightmare maybe.

None of that happened of course.

He was still sitting there when the light of dawn came creeping into the room through the crack under the door.

Turning his head he saw that Spencer still hadn't woken up. He didn't know if he was dismayed or relieved. He wanted the kid to get better…but he wouldn't know how to react, what to do...worse, he was scared of his reaction once he woke up. He would want to leave. The thought of him gone-

Before he could think any further, Seth got to his feet and left the room quickly, suddenly desperate for a shower.

If he hurried he'd make it back before anyone else woke, avoiding all risk.

He locked the door behind him anyway, just in case. For safety reasons. 

If only that were all.

xxx

Spencer didn't wake up during the next five hours.

Later, Seth wouldn't be sure what he had been doing between staring into space and staring at the kid, trapped in his sleep-deprived mind to a point where he couldn't even separate his thoughts, or determine what in particular they were about. It was all a whirl of images and tangled emotions, a trance-like state with phases of anger, pain, grief, and depression as he thought about his situation, and lastly blissful numbness all rolled into one.

After noon, he finally made himself snap out of it and leave the room –if only to make sure that Carlos hadn't been up to any shenanigans and to get a better impression of the other people hanging around the house.

They were the usual crowd, everybody in too deep to be able to afford meddling with the others' business. He played a quick game of cards with them when they offered, listening to the radio instead of really paying attention to the game. They didn't even look up when the news reporter came on, informing America that two of its most notorious criminals had been killed under yet unknown circumstances, having taken seven law enforcement officers with them.

After a while he got up, fished a bottle of whiskey out of Carlos' stash, went onto the porch and drank to his own death. Even to him it was pathetic, sad and pointless…just like his life had been. And how it would be from now on. In a way it was fitting. In a way he was dead. A dead man walking.

He thought about just downing the bottle while he was at it, to act as somber as he felt and wallow, maybe break something. Several somethings. Smash something in until he started feeling better or until the booze started to take effect and it all went away. probably the latter.

He didn't for one reason and one reason only. Spencer would leave him, yes. But he wouldn't leave Spencer here alone, not in his state, not in this house. If there was one -good- thing left he cared about, it was that.

When Spencer woke up, it probably wouldn't be the best idea to be drunk. He would need a hell of a lot more self-control than he had already to do what he needed to do. After wards…when it was all over, when he was truly alone, finished, without a goal left, then he could do whatever he wanted.

As he stared at the bottle, those depressing thoughts swirling in his head, interrupted by other, more hopeful ones that he did his best to suppress because they all included the kid staying -he realized that it was probably best not to go back into the room right away. There was probably only so much staring at the kid he'd be able to take.

He didn't want to go sit with the other men again though, so in lack of an alternative he went to check on the car and sort through everything he'd taken with him from the parking lot by the bar. It seemed utterly pointless considering everything but maybe it would take his mind off of things...

It was about an hour of sitting in the car and going through the maps and documents he'd found with the BAU agents' things before he managed to calm himself down to a near normal level.

He was just reading through a case file that had his and Richie's name on it, lost in the reports in it, when a sudden commotion inside the house made him jump in startlement.

His head snapped up, his eyes fixated on the house. That noise…familiar voice…

It took him another split second to realize he hadn't locked the door to Spencer's room.

xxx

Element Of Blank 

'Pain has an element of blank;  
It cannot recollect  
When it began, or if there was  
A time when it was not.

It has no future but itself,  
Its infinite realms contain  
Its past, enlightened to perceive  
New periods of pain.'

-Emily Dickinson

xxx

Spencer woke with a start, his whole body locked in tension from a nightmare he couldn't remember. His eyes snapped open and his brain took in his surroundings within milliseconds, spurred by alarm.

He was lying down, covered by blankets. There was a white ceiling above him and a mattress, a bed under him. It was half dark and utterly quiet all around.

What? Where?

He blinked rapidly as he lied there drenched in sweat, muscles so taunt they were aching, with his hands fisted into tangled sheets and his heart racing. For mere seconds he couldn't move at all, frozen as he slowly became aware of three things.

One, he didn't know where he was. This wasn't his room, he didn't remember going to sleep here, surrounded by strange sheets and smells.

Two, he was terrified, still frozen on his back with his heart and breath much too fast and irregular.

And three, he had no idea why.

That realization alone was frightening. But as much as he tried, he couldn't remember what had him so afraid, if it had been a bad dream or something else. Taking a deep breath, he tried to focus, to find a sense, a memory….

Hissing, screams, red tinting his vision…pain, so much pain…

Spencer shot up in the bed, his fear suddenly spiking -only to immediately curl in on himself when pain and dizziness hit him at the same time. What had interpreted as soreness before he suddenly perceived as real biting pain. Whimpering, he hugged his knees, helpless as the room spun around him.

It took several moments before he dared to lift his head again, glancing at his surroundings.

There was no one there…nothing although he had been so sure just then that any second something was going to grab him…

What was that? A memory?

He blinked. It was gone now, that flash of impressions, merely the shadow of a nightmare.

All that was left was an empty room that was small and plain, with only the bed opposite to a closed door. There was nothing else in it, not even window. The only light was coming from the wide crack under the door. He recognized none of it.

Spencer drew in a shaky breath as a billon questions shot into his mind at the same time. Why couldn't he remember any of this? Where was he? Why?

A strange room, pain all over…his head, he couldn't think-

Had someone brought him here? There was no one else to be seen, and no sounds to be heard…

His eyes flickered over the room once more, looking for anything, any indicator, something that might remind him….there…what was that…there in the corner…what…? His heart leaped, stomach clenching when he realized he was looking at rope, the fibers dirtied-

Staring, he suddenly couldn't swallow. Panic was now truly starting to sink its claws into him, unrelenting and ice cold. Shaking, Spencer scooted back on the bed until his back hit the wall, drawing the blanket further around him.

What was happening here? And why couldn't he remember? He was trying, despite the headache threatening to split his skull in half and his blurred vision…but the more he did the more he realized he didn't remember much of anything. Not only that he couldn't tell how he might have gotten here or who had brought him to this room, he also couldn't remember where he should be instead, or who with…

He couldn't think of anything concrete.

Nothing.

"What's happening…?" he whispered, bringing up a hand to grip at his messed up hair.

He flinched when a touch to his temple resulted in a sharp sting. Hands shaking, he felt the area gingerly, finding that the skin there was broken. A head wound…was that why he couldn't remember? But why…who would-?

He let his arm fall back down, and, looking at it, belatedly noticed a bandage around his wrist and, god, bruises in the shape of fingers all over his arm…

Spencer felt his breathing becoming even more irregular as he sat there and stared at his arm. His heart was racing so fast by now that he thought it was about to jump out of his chest.

No, no, no… 

He didn't need to remember details to know that he wasn't alright, that he was right to be distressed. Something awful had happened, he could feel that in his bones. Literally.

He had to do something. He couldn't stay here, not without even knowing…

It took several minutes before his body even seemed to receive the command his brain was sending to his legs. Then slowly, reluctantly, he scooted towards the edge of the bed and put his feet on the floor.

He pushed to his feet, only to immediately be overcome by another wave of dizziness. Suppressing a groan, he steadied himself with one hand on the wall until the spell passed. Even then, the soreness in his body remained, reminding him with every movement that he wasn't alright. He glanced down at himself, gasping when he saw the state of his clothes. He touched a stain on his shirt with trembling fingers, somehow knowing without a doubt that it was blood. He closed his eyes, fighting down nausea and panic with all he had. He needed to keep going, get out of here…

It took an agonizingly long minute before he finally reached the door. There he leaned against it, dizzy, and held his breath as he listened for any sounds outside.

Nothing…maybe somewhere further off the sound of steps… he waited until he heard nothing for a long while, then, with all the courage he had he grabbed the door knob and twisted. Praying it wouldn't be locked he held his breath and pushed.

The door opened with a creak.

Spencer didn't know whether to jump in fear or joy at the sound.

At least that. That made it a little less scary. He hadn't been locked in. that made breathing slightly easier at least. A little more courageous he peeked outside, finding an empty hallway of what looked like a pretty standard house. Still, nothing that seemed familiar.

He slipped outside, looked around and then slowly and silently sneaked into the hallway on bare feet. There were several small and empty if slightly chaotic rooms, all of them light and with windows that let in warm sunlight. In what looked like the living room there even was a large glass door leading onto what looked like a terrace. There weren't any locks he could see, all of it open. That too ceased his anxiety a little. At least he hadn't walked into a dungeon-

Just as he thought that he was suddenly grabbed by the arm from behind, hard. "Que demonios-?"

Spencer all but jumped out of his skin, flinching away in shock, but the grip only tightened as he was whirled around to find himself face to face with a man he'd never seen before. Spencer stared at him, heart immediately racing again.

The man had tan skin and a dark mustache, a small built but muscled limbs. There was a deep frown on his unfamiliar face, an expression that was deeply unsettling for some reason. He tried to pull away again, to no avail.

"What are you doing out? Shit!" The man cursed in Spanish before suddenly yelling down the corridor, "Seth! Ey, Seth, get your ass in here!"

He ignored Spencer's startled reaction, not even trying to talk to him but instead roughly hauling him down the corridor without another word. Spencer yelped in shock, instinctively trying to fight the painful grip but the man moved him like it was nothing.

Before he knew it he'd been dragged into a kitchen, as messy as the rest of the house but not empty. There were three more men in there, all of them dressed similarly to the first, and with very similar expressions. Spencer tensed all over as he felt their eyes measuring him up. He didn't recognize any of them but they looked…like the kind of person you'd want to avoid after dark…or even before dark. Not for one second did any of them look like they might help him or worry about his state. They looked indifferent at best, interested at worst.

Panic back and growing, Spencer fought to get free harder, tried to take a step back, out of the door, but found himself immediately being dragged back. He swayed, barely catching himself as his vision blurred.

"Stop that!" he was yelled at.

"Please, let go…" he pleaded with the man holding him, trying to get out of his grip, "What is this…who are you, I-"

"Callate," the man snapped, not even looking at him. His eyes were searching the room, and Spencer froze when he saw them lingering on first duct tape and then -a kitchen knife.

Hard fingers wrapped around his throat, cutting off his air, the cutting edge of a knife biting into his skin…

Spencer's throat closed up in terror at the image this put into his head, sudden harsh memories flashing before his eyes. Oh God. He needed to get away from here, from these people. Right now….

He struggled harder, despite feeling like he was about to faint any second, hyperventilating and completely overwrought from what was happening.

"Ya need some help there, Carlos?" one of the men, much taller and burlier than the first asked, getting out of his seat by the table. There was a gun tucked into his pants in plain sight.

Spencer stared at him, color washing out of his face. He cringed when the man came closer, struggling harder when suddenly a voice coming from behind them interrupted him.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Carlos?"

Everybody's head snapped around at the deep, angry voice from behind them to find yet another tall and dark stranger standing in the doorway. His black eyes were blazing with rage, jaw twitching and hands clenched to fists by his sides. He was fixating the man holding Spencer with a murderous expression.

Spencer felt the air around him bristling with tension as the man holding him and everybody else in the room froze for a brief moment, clearly apprehensive. Rightfully so it seemed. The man looked positively livid, his right hand now touching the gun tucked into his belt. Spencer shuddered, feeling his blood run cold at the sight. More guns, more trigger happy, violent, shady-

The man's eyes met his suddenly, fixating him and he flinched back, startled and fearfully. Immediately the grip around his arm tightened, his pained whimper enough to break the sudden silence that had fallen.

"There you are, Seth," the man holding him snapped out of his brief lapse, frowning deeply, "Here, I think this belongs to you. So much for no trouble, eh?"

With that he shoved Spencer forward roughly, right into the man in the doorway. Spencer gasped, stumbling, but before he could even try to catch himself, strong hands seized his upper arms and held him steady. Then, before he could even process what was happening, he was being pulled out of the kitchen, back into the hallway. The man -all that was visible of him now were broad shoulders and a black suit- all but rushed down the corridor without so much as a word, leaving Spencer to stumble after him if he didn't want to fall.

They were halfway back to the room that he had woken up in when Spencer snapped out of his shock.

What- No! No, how had this just gone from bad to worse? This man, clearly frightening even to those dangerous people, was now pulling him towards- what? He didn't even know. Guns, ropes, more pain for all he knew…

"Let me go!" Spencer clawed at the fingers around his wrist to no avail, trying to pull away frantically, "Let go, let me-"

But the man ignored him, his grip uncompromising, not saying a word until he'd opened the door to that room and pulled him inside.

Spencer jumped, froze at the sound of the door falling shut, watching with wide eyes as the man turned around to lock the door and take the key.

The action turned his stomach in its finality and his heart fell as he realized he was trapped.


	5. Chapter 5

It all happened too fast to process.

One second Spencer was coming to terms with the fact that he was apparently in a house full of armed criminals without an intact memory of how he'd gotten there, the next he was being dragged into the same windowless room he'd woken up in by one of them, someone with a gun and a grip of steel and now he was trapped in here with just that guy and his heart was beating so fast it was leaving him dizzy and breathless and…oh god, no, this wasn't happening…

Spencer felt himself shaking as he backed away from the door on unsteady legs, eyes fixed on the stranger's back. He could see stars dancing in front of his eyes by now, tell tale signs that he shouldn't be moving -or standing- but he ignored it, afraid to even blink, utterly focused on the fight or flight reaction his body was experiencing. He still had no idea what was going on. All he knew was that the danger he'd felt a minute ago might have actually increased…that man was blocking the way to the door, leaving him literally trapped-

Trapped. Nowhere to go. There was only darkness, damp cold walls and a narrow ceiling in the weak light but he knew that, knew it even before there were fingers around his throat, cutting off his air and he couldn't breathe anymore…and it felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest…he was going to die, die… 

Spencer shuddered, assaulted yet again by sudden images that he couldn't categorize. They flashed in front of his inner eye, only increasing his fear. He might not remember everything but he knew enough to know that he was feeling this way for a reason, that he needed to get away, get to safety….

He couldn't though. Not without getting past that man first.

Just then, the man turned around to face him. He looked to be about thirty, with dark hair and a tan, some stubble on his face covering a strong jaw. Spencer barely glanced at his face, too preoccupied with registering how tall and broad in comparison to him the man was, easily twice his weight in muscle with a tattoo on his neck that looked like a souvenir from prison, hands much too close to the gun at his belt…hands that even without a weapon had been like steel…

Hands on him, bruising, punishing…he couldn't move, couldn't get away, helpless to make it stop- 

Spencer blinked rapidly as the memory flashes –at least that was what he thought they were- were coming faster and thicker now, each and every one of them so very real and frightening that he felt he was experiencing what he was seeing in real time.

"No," he croaked, voice trembling as he tried unsuccessfully to fight down the rising panic, "no, no, no-"

He startled when at his mumbled words the man's expression tightened, his brows furrowing, and he suddenly stepped towards him, a hand coming up as if to grab him again.

Spencer recoiled instantly, stumbling back until he felt the wall in his back, fearful wide eyes watching the other's every movement.

At his violent reaction, the man stopped in his tracks, eyes widening slightly as something passed over his features, an emotion too fleeting to decipher. For a moment they merely stared at each other, thick silence filling the room.

Then, slowly, the stranger lifted his hands so Spencer could see his upturned palms. "Kid, I know you're freaking out right now, but-"

But Spencer wasn't listening. All he saw was that the man was still moving closer, that he was suddenly almost within reaching distance-

Acting on instinct, he took the one chance he saw, darting past the man and diving for the door as quickly as his feet would allow, fleeing.

He made it to the door, his hand already on the door knob –then strong hands grabbed him from behind, arms wrapping around him and pulling him back against a hard chest. That was all it took for the panic to fully take over. Spencer cried out, fighting and thrashing in the man's grip with all the strength he could muster. "No! Let me go, let go, don't-"

It was going to start all over, no getting away from the horror, the pain, the blood…any second now it would start all over- He clawed at the arms restraining him desperately as he tried to get away, but it was no use. It merely resulted in him being grabbed even more tightly, his arms pinned by his sides by a tight embrace, immobilizing him.

"Stop. Spencer, listen to me- Stop!"

He wasn't even registering the man's words. He couldn't breathe, panic choking him. The restrictive hold, that dark voice right by his ear, hot breath hitting the back of his neck was reinforcing the sensation of being trapped and crowded. And the man didn't let go, holding him just as effortlessly as if he were a child…

It might have been minutes or second of futile struggling until he finally gave up, too exhausted to do anything but struggle against the hold on him weakly. By then his sight was blurring and there were dark spots dancing in front of his eyes, nausea washing through him. He felt as though his legs might give in at any second, as though he might actually faint right then and there.

Spencer shuddered. Maybe he should just hope he would. Who knew what else-

"Please," he whispered, "please, don't-" He didn't realize he was crying until he heard his own voice cracking, "Please let me go."

He flinched when he felt the arms around him tighten, his captor tensing behind him. For a moment that seemed like an eternity the man was silent, then he moved his head and Spencer could feel his cheek pressing against the side of his temple as he spoke, much too close to his ear.

"I can't do that."

Spencer felt cold spreading through him at those words. Crying silently, he pressed his eyes shut, left shaking and praying.

xxx

Seth had no clue what to do.

He was barely over the shock of realizing that something awful had almost happened back there in the kitchen between Carlos' friends and Spencer and suddenly he had even worse drama to deal with than that.

Back in the kitchen, the only thing stronger than his rage at the situation had been his fear. Fear for Spencer that had blocked out everything else, that had him practically running back to the room, desperate to bring some sort of barrier between them and those men when any other time he certainly would have stayed and gotten into a fight.

Now though, with Spencer shaking and crying in his arms, he was starting to realize that that clearly hadn't been the best reaction on his part considering that Spencer had already looked utterly rattled even without more manhandling.

Crap.

He'd grabbed the kid automatically, hell bent on getting him away from those men. He hadn't thought about being careful or gentle or anything like that. As a result, he was now standing here, with Spencer seemingly about a second away from a full blown panic attack, frantic and pleading, clearly terrified. Shit.

Of course he hadn't expected Spencer to wake up calm exactly.

After all, waking up in pain and traumatized only to find oneself still in danger and with the one person who had caused one's entire trauma in the first place would hardly be reassuring, and that whole scene with Carlos' thugs out there probably hadn't helped…

But still, he hadn't expected for Spencer to react this violently. To look at him with such fear and dread.

Maybe he shouldn't have been surprised but still it had felt like a punch to the gut to see that. To be reminded of how far the reality of their relationship clearly still was from the fantasy in his head.

It had thrown him of track for a moment, too long apparently because before he'd even been able to try and calm him down, the kid had suddenly bolted, trying to run from the room.

Seth had grabbed him instinctively, knowing he couldn't let him go back out there right now. It had taken him all but three seconds to realize just how bad a move that had been.

Really, really bad.

He could feel Spencer shaking uncontrollably in his arms, frozen in tension with whispered pleas falling from his lips that almost broke his heart in their desperation.

Shit, shit, shit. Seth wanted to scream. Cry too maybe.

This was all wrong.

Of all the scenarios in Seth's head of how this first interaction should go, this was certainly the worst. He'd been planning to explain the situation to Spencer calmly once he woke up, somehow reassure him of his safety enough to not have him freak out too badly once he realized what was outside of his room –but the chance for that had clearly passed now.

Still, he couldn't let him go back out there.

No, he had to get him to calm down enough so he could explain the situation.

Making a decision, he took a deep breath and pushed aside the tension and nagging hurt he felt, to not let Spencer's reaction get to him. He squeezed the kid's shoulder lightly, trying to sound calm and reassuring somehow despite his true feelings. Spencer was so banged up already, the last thing he wanted was to cause him any more pain.

"Hey. Hey, calm down. Spencer, you need to stop fighting me and calm down."

Another shudder, another half sob that made him feel like his heart was being crushed by a hand of steel.

So much for reassuring then. He still couldn't believe that he would cause this bad a reaction- then again, it shouldn't be surprising, should it? Considering everything he'd done…

He pressed his eyes hut for a moment, taking a deep breath. His face pressed against soft burnished locks could have felt so right, his arms around that lithe, slender body so perfect…but even he couldn't fool himself into not seeing reality now.

"You're okay," he brought a hand up to brush over the young man's hair on the side of his head, hating the resulting flinch. "Just listen to me for a moment. I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but you are. I'll let go but I need to sure you won't try to run again. Okay?"

Spencer fought down another sob, clearly fighting to be calm but failing, "Please…who are you? What do you want from me?"

Seth, who had been about to try and explain to Spencer that he needed to calm down despite his presence and stay in the room for his own safety, stopped short, blinking in confusion.

What-? 

Who-? Had he just heard that right?

Before he could think better off it he loosened his grip on the kid and turned him around by his shoulders, staring at him caught between shock and confusion. Spencer stared back unblinkingly out of teary, frightened eyes, seemingly not breathing.

"What did you-?" Seth blinked slowly, taking in every miniscule expression on the kid's face as his thoughts started to race.

There was fear there alright, but now that he was really looking he realized that something was different. He knew too damn well what Spencer looked like scared, had even learned to read the different reasons for it from the kid's eyes over the past week. Fear with calculation, fear with disdain, fear with pity, fear with anger.

There was none of that now. Not the controlled anxiety of an FBI agent, not the broken expression Spencer had had at the end of their ordeal in the bar.

He was looking at him like-

'Who are you?'

Everything clicked into place then.

"Shit," Seth breathed when realization finally hit him, "you still don't remember?"

Spencer didn't reply, but his expression was answer enough.

Seth gulped.

He didn't remember. Still. Which meant he was scared because he'd woken up hurting and in a place he didn't recognize, surrounded by gangsters and because he was currently locked into a room with a stranger and a gun. Not because of-

Seth exhaled, feeling unbidden but nonetheless extreme relief crash down on him… not quite so closely followed by worry this time.

He didn't remember…not anything…not what he'd done…

That meant-

Before he had consciously thought about what he was doing, his body made a decision for him, acting on pure instinct. He let his shoulders fall and his features soften even more, trying not to look as imposing and loosening his grip on the kid's arms a little more.

"Spencer, it's Seth." The only response he got was Spencer pulling away with the little leeway he had. Seth let him take a step back and lean against the door. He still had the key on him after all and the young man looked like he was about to collapse where he was standing. Still, he wasn't about to let this go.

"Hey, kid, look at me," he lifted a hand as though to lift his chin but refrained from actually touching him this time, focused on holding that frightened gaze and keeping his own soft, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you…I was sure you'd have remembered me by now."

Some part of him reminded him none too quietly that what he was saying didn't make much sense, and that it was wrong - but he didn't listen to that part. All he could think of was how Spencer had looked at him in the desert. He'd taken comfort in Seth's presence then…

The mere thought of the kid possibly reacting like that to him again instantly wiped all thoughts of logic and morals from his mind.

For a moment he wasn't sure of anything. He waited, breathlessly, while Spencer stayed pressed against the door, still ghostly pale, just staring at him unblinking and teary eyed like he was expecting him to pounce at any second despite his appeasing gesture.

Seth didn't move, fully focused on not looking intimidating in any way.

It took a long moment, but eventually, something did shift in Spencer's expression, confusion taking hold in it. Hazel eyes scanned his face more closely, looking for something…

"Seth?"

It sounded uncertain, so much that Seth wasn't able to tell if the kid was remembering him or if he was just repeating the name.

Seth took it as a good sign anyway.

"Yeah. You remember me, right?" He tried not to think about the fact that he was making it sound like he should, like it would be reassuring to remember him.

Spencer hesitated, looking terribly conflicted and uncertain now. The look of concentration on his face looked like it must be giving him a headache, but at least he wasn't clutching the doorknob quite as tightly now, distracted.

"I…"

xxx

Every fiber of Spencer's body was screaming at him to run, to get away. He couldn't help it; he was so worked up already, he felt ready to jump at any ever so minuscule movement or change that might mean danger.

Only slowly did his brain start catching up to what was happening, working its way through hazy, tangled thoughts and adrenaline. The man wasn't touching him anymore. Instead he was standing there, trying to…reassure him?

He blinked, confused, trying to form a clear thought despite spells of dizziness and the blood pounding in his ears. He'd been so sure just second ago that this man -Seth, he'd said his name was Seth- was going to hurt him somehow. Everything had indicated it.

But he wasn't. Instead he was suddenly all…

Acting like Spencer should know him…and like he shouldn't be afraid because of that…

But he didn't remember…did he?

With the edge of his panic gone, he looked at the man more closely for the first time, his face, his eyes…

An image flashed before his eyes suddenly. Those same, black eyes on him, same slightly rough voice. 'It's alright.' A supporting arm around his waist. "I've got you."

Then he was in a car…turning his head he could see Seth behind the wheel, smoking a cigarette…they were walking into a motel room, eating on the bed, talking…in a diner…

"Seth," he whispered. Once he actually took the time to think, his thoughts not clouded by panic, he thought he remembered saying that name…remembered those eyes…and the desert, oh God, in the desert…he remembered that. He had woken up without orientation, hurting and confused just like now, and Seth had been there, getting him out of the sun, getting him water…

"Seth…I…in the desert, outside that bar-"

He felt his body losing some of its tension with those memories returning. It wasn't much but still it felt like a huge relief. He did know Seth…and the little he remembered didn't seem to indicate that there was need for panicking...

But, he stopped himself, the gun, this place, the whole situation…

He stared at the man in front of him, conflicted. He wanted to be comforted by this new information, wanted to finally stop feeling like his heart was going to burst out of his chest at any second, wanted to stop being terrified. He felt so tired, ready to drop…but at the same time he was too wound up to even take his eyes off the man.

"That's right," Seth nodded, "We were at that bar and ran into some trouble. You got hurt, hit on the head. Hence the memory loss I guess."

He sounded worried for him, a slight frown on his face.

Spencer didn't answer, didn't move. He didn't know what to do. There were a billion questions he had, with so few memory fragments to go by. He looked at Seth with a mixture of hope and fear, still not sure what to make of him. It did seem like he might know him, like this might just be a big misunderstanding but…

Seth's frown deepened as he took in his wary expression. "Afterwards…we were out in the desert, middle of fucking nowhere, kid. I didn't know how badly you were hurt, so I went to the first place with a bed and a doctor and ended up here. In retrospective obviously not the best idea, but I didn't have a whole lot of options."

He sounded almost apologetic for bringing him here. Logical, too. Like, yes, those men had been really scary but maybe Seth wasn't…except he was, despite his changed demeanor. Except Spencer didn't know how much he could rely his own head right now, not when his gut was still telling him to flee.

"I don't want to be here," he insisted, "This place, those men…"

His eyes flickered to the door behind him, on the other side of which he knew those men still were-

He flinched, his heart missing a beat when suddenly there was a touch to his hand which was still clutching the doorknob. His head snapped around eyes glued to Seth's in alarm despite himself.

Instinctively, he tried to pull his hand away, but Seth held onto it with gentle force and lifted it away from the door, his own large hand wrapped around the thin joints almost gingerly. Spencer's breath caught in apprehension. He couldn't help but expect the grip to tighten again -but nothing of the like happened. Seth just held on lightly, brushing a thumb over the knuckles in a soothing motion.

"I know. I know. Just breathe, okay?" he murmured. His dark eyes were full of worry and hurt as he looked at him, visible among a multitude of other emotions. Spencer shivered at how familiar that gaze on him felt, not sure if that reassured or upset him…

"I know this is fucking scary…waking up like this, with them. But you're sick, you need the rest. It's just till you're better. And those fucks aren't gonna come near you again. They're not gonna touch you again unless they wanna lose a hand."

Spencer did hear the no in that statement first and foremost, along with the underlying darkness in the threat -but he also heard the honest concern and worry in the man's voice, saw the same in his eyes. Seth actually looked like Spencer's state was bothering him, like he meant what he was saying. Like he was a friend, not a threat. …

'-not going to touch you.'

He couldn't help but feel like Seth might have told him that before, on another occasion when he'd been equally scared…

And despite the alarm bells still shrilling in his head, Spencer found himself latching onto that instinctively, wanting to believe, desperate for a connection, some proof that he was in fact alright. Okay, I'm okay. I know him. He wants me to get better. If he wanted to do anything he could have ten times over by now…

He repeated that mantra about two dozen times in his head before it had any tangible effect. Finally though he did feel a little calmer, a little less scared. His shoulders slumped, adrenaline being replaced by exhaustion as he leaned heavily against the door. His legs sagged under him the second he didn't put conscious effort into standing anymore and he felt himself sinking down the wall. Everything went black for a second then, his vision fading.

The next thing he knew he wasn't leaning against the door anymore. There were strong arms around him, holding him upright and moving him. Seconds later he felt the soft material of cushions…the bed bending under his weight.

Spencer blinked back into awareness with considerable effort, alarm once again sneaking past dizziness and exhaustion as he felt someone bending over him, hands still on him. He tensed, trying to push himself up but found a resistance against his shoulder pushing him back down.

"Hush, it's okay, you're okay." Before Spencer could work up enough energy to start struggling in earnest, Seth moved back to the edge of the bed, giving him space. His voice was still soft and nonthreatening, his touch light. Still…Spencer would have moved, would have wanted to not leave himself this open and helpless had he had the energy.

As it was, he could feel himself already slipping back into unconsciousness, unable to stop it. A single tear slid down his cheek as he once again realized how bad a shape he really was in, how messed up a situation…

"Don't," a warm thumb brushed over his cheek, wiping the tear away before moving on to stroke an errant strand of hair out of his face, "Don't be scared. Nothing's going to happen to you, I swear."

Those words, promises were the last thing he heard before darkness took hold completely.

xxx

Seth knew his expression was frightening enough to scare even the devil as he entered the kitchen. It wasn't much of an effort to go from the earnest, safe impression he had just given Spencer to what he did best.

He felt the change of course, registered once again that he was balancing between two extremes, but it wasn't overly hard.

Maybe because neither was a lie.

He was extremely worried about Spencer's state, concerned with getting him better -but he was also extremely pissed at Carlos and, aware of the circumstances and what they required, he pushed those softer, weaker emotions into the back of his mind for the moment, back where memories of his childhood and Richie where stored.

This wasn't the time or place for either. Instead he let the side of him that dealt with problems come forth, the part that wasn't hindered by things like empathy or fear or love. Better that way really, he didn't want to think about what had happened with Spencer and the consequences of that right now. He had to be rational now, had to act in…their? Yes, their best interest. And that was clearly to present a strong front, let these thugs know not to fuck with him.

He actually took glee in the sight of Carlos immediately getting to his feet once he saw him, apprehension clear even underneath a thick mask of annoyance.

"What the hell was that, eh?" The Mexican threw both arms in the air to vent his anger, backed up by the fact that the rest of the men were behind him, looking equally bewildered and upset about what had happened with Spencer a while ago.

They might not know the kid was an FBI agent -they wouldn't have just been standing there glaring in that case –but it was clear that seeing the scared young man had had alarm bells ringing in their heads. They were afraid their safety might be compromised by a loose end.

Seth ignored them. He didn't care about their individuals troubles. All he cared about was that Spencer had almost gotten hurt.

"That's what I wanna know," he snapped, glaring dangerously at his old acquaintance, "because to me it looked like you were getting into my business when I specifically told you to stay the fuck out of it!"

"Stay ou-? Seth! The boy was running around the house free, he-"

"Whoever said he couldn't? I told you to trust me, didn't I? So when I tell you he's not a risk, he's not a risk!"

"Seth, he's-"

"Not. A risk." Seth cut him off abruptly, if only to stop the man from revealing too much to the others. "I'm gonna say this one more time, Carlos," he pressed out from behind clenched teeth, eyes flashing dangerously, "He's with me. I talk to him, I deal with him. Not you, not anyone else."

Carlos growled, clearly intimidated by his behavior but he wouldn't give up quite yet, "He's with you, eh? Didn't look like it to me."

Everybody was listening in to their conversation much too interested, eyes wandering between him and Carlos.

Seth just stared at him coldly. "I don't give a shit. Don't cross me if you know what's good for you."

xxx

When Spencer woke for the second time he was drenched in sweat and immediately alert to his situation. There was no brief period of disorientation this time, no confusion.

He drew in a sharp breath as his short term memory reminded him of what had happened, eyes snapping open, body going rigid.

The room, the bed, still the same.

Not long ago he'd woken up in this same spot without a memory, hurting…only to be found by those men in the house, men with guns who had been about to hurt him when…Seth.

Seth.

That name flashing through his mind, that one distinct memory was the only thing that kept him from outright panicking all over again right then.

Seth…he remembered…how he'd completely lost it, so sure that the man would hurt him, fear spurred by the gun, the rope, the locked door, by Seth grabbing him, refusing to let him leave…but he also remembered that when given the chance he hadn't done anything but try to get him to calm down, to get him to believe that he needn't be scared of him. And then…

Spencer blinked. Everything was sort of fuzzy from there, probably because his body had finally rebelled and he had fainted soon after.

His heart sped up when he recalled the last thing he'd been aware of: Being placed back here in bed with Seth bending over him. Spencer gulped. He hadn't been sure of anything then, not even aware enough anymore to make up his mind about whether or not he believed the man when he told him he'd be alright…

He shuddered, cringing at the thought of just having blacked out in a situation like that, with so little to be sure of.

He forced himself to take a deep breath just so he wouldn't start to hyperventilate again, instead consciously focusing on his own physical state.

Surprisingly, it actually seemed like he was okay. Not dead, not worse…

He was still sore, feeling weak and feverish…but even that was a little better than before. Definitely not worse. He could still move freely too and there wasn't an immediately threat visible…was there?

Spencer's eyes flitted over the small room quickly, almost immediately settling on the figure by the door. His heart skipped a beat in the second before he recognized him.

Seth was sitting by the door with his back against the wall, eyes closed and head leaned against the wall.

For a moment Spencer just stared at him, not sure whether the sight unsettled or reassured him. On the one hand his first instinct was to get scared again. On the other hand...he wasn't worse. Nothing had happened just like he'd been promised. The man was just sitting there letting him sleep.

Spencer let out a breath he hadn't noticed he'd held, relaxing significantly at that thought.

You're okay. He said you were…he promised…See? …-Yes, but are you really sure…? What about the gun and the others? -He said this was the only option, and he got you away from them. Lots of people have guns, it doesn't have to mean anything. - But-

Little voices inside his head were fighting as he stared at Seth in silence. Before, he had been so besides himself, so panicked that he had barely taken the time to look at him. Now though, taking in his overall appearance, his dark hair and tanned face, the black tailored suit, the posture…it all immediately reminded him of the brief flashbacks he'd had earlier, and suddenly he was certain that he did actually know him, that those things had really happened.

He squinted, thinking hard, trying to focus on anything else he might remember, anything at all that might help.

They'd been in a car…and a motel room…and a diner together. If he focused he could see himself sitting across from Seth…having a conversation, could see Seth smirking at him as he pushed a glass of alcohol towards him…a hand on his shoulder…

Had they been travelling together? On some sort of road trip maybe? Did that mean they were…what? Friends? He tried to remember anything else but failed, his head too foggy to focus for long.

He felt better nonetheless. At least he had something to go by now and with every new memory that wasn't frightening and every minute that went by without something awful happening he felt a tiny bit safer. Maybe it really was okay. Yes, this place, those men were frightening. But Seth had said he wasn't with them…and that he would keep them away…

Are you really going to rely on that?

He shook his head harshly, trying to stop the paranoia creeping up on him again and again. He didn't want to be scared.

His movement didn't go unnoticed this time. Seth opened his eyes just then, looking over at him.

Spencer tensed, unable to help himself and sat up quickly, pulling the covers with him as he sat with his back to the wall.

Seth took in his reaction, his face darkening slightly, jaw clenching for a brief moment. He didn't move or say anything though, just sat there, his expression somewhat incongruous, an odd mix of relief and uncertainty, happiness and worry. As though he was expecting Spencer to freak out again, react to him as badly as before –and as though the thought troubled him.

Spencer was surprised to find that he felt a small stab of guilt in his chest at seeing that, at the realization that he was causing that pained expression with his behavior. It seemed so honest, so authentic; real emotion that made up for the man's unsettling appearance. To think that they might actually be close and for him to have acted like he did…

If only he could be sure. Right then, with their eyes interlocked, both of them motionless, he almost was. Sure enough to take a leap?

Spencer pulled his arms tighter around his knees, battling himself for a moment, eyes never laving Seth's face.

"Hi," he finally said quietly. He figured it was better than, Sorry, I'm still not sure if you're a friend or an sadistic ax murderer but considering you haven't killed me yet I might give you the benefit of the doubt.

Seth's eyes widened slightly as if in surprise, then softened, the strained expression in them fading gradually.

"Hi," he replied after a moment, still unmoving.

There was silence for a moment, both of them adjusting to the new situation.

Finally Spencer pulled himself together, knowing he couldn't just sit there forever. Now that he'd made a start he had to take another step forward even if he was scared to.

"How long-?"

Seth picked at his pant leg, still eying him somewhat suspiciously. "Another five hours. It's past dusk….Good news is your fever's broken."

Spencer nodded, deciding not to think too much about how he could tell from way over there.

"I do feel better," he said quietly.

"That's good." There was a softness to Seth's face that almost made Spencer think he had just imagined the scene in the kitchen, that that back there had been a completely different man. He didn't know what to make of that...which was more real…

More silence, longer this time, which Spencer didn't know how to fill. It seemed hard to follow up with casual conversation after their last interaction but he definitely didn't want to address that. Seth seemed hesitant to talk or get up as well, and when he did it was hard to read his thoughts from his expression or voice.

"I'm guessing your head's still messed up." It almost sounded like a question. He seemed to want to add something to that, but snapped his mouth shut halfway through.

Spencer nodded, fingers playing with the blanket as he bit his lip. He knew the man was waiting for an explanation for his behavior, any indication for how their next encounters would go.

"I remember you," he eventually admitted, "…my mind is still mostly a blank…but there's…fragments? I remember travelling in the car, the bar, the motel room…just not a whole lot else. Everything is just kind of…fuzzy."

Seth nodded slowly. His lips were still tightly closed, shoulders tensed. There was something in his expression for a moment but it was gone before Spencer could identify it.

"Reckon it'll pass eventually," he then just said, "You've been through a lot. Your brain just shut down."

Spencer instinctively hugged his knees tighter at that, feeling cold suddenly for no specific reason. He still couldn't remember anything - nothing except how he felt at least. That alone was a huge telltale sign though. PTSD occurred after exposure to significantly traumatic events like war, disaster, near death experiences, torture, or rape, resulting in the inability to cope with the trauma resulting in excessive anxiety, flashbacks, nightmares and violent reaction to stressors…

He didn't know how he knew all that. He knew that that was what he was experiencing though. The question was: What had caused it?

"What happened?"

Seth didn't reply for so long that Spencer almost thought he wouldn't at all, his expression unreadable. Then though he frowned, shaking his head. "Maybe you should wait till you remember by yourself…who knows, I don't want you to collapse a third time."

Nothing about the way he said it should have been particularly upsetting, in fact, Spencer realized he was probably right. Still, the words caused a lump to form in his throat, his stomach suddenly churning. His fingers clenched and unclenched in the blanket as he forced himself to take a deep breath.

"I…", he almost couldn't say it, "I need to know." He knew his anxiety and doubts must have been clearly displayed in his eyes as he looked at Seth almost pleadingly, willing him to understand without having to say out loud…

He knew Seth understood when the man's face fell, his expression darkening slightly.

"Right," he said tonelessly, "'Course."

Another stab of gilt over layering his tension.

"I'm sorry, I want to- But I just can't…seem to shake this…" he was apologizing before he knew it, immediately breaking off mid sentence when Seth suddenly got up and walked over to the bed.

He paused at the last step, both hands performing an appeasing gesture when he saw the kid tense. When Spencer didn't protest or move away, he slowly lowered himself onto the edge of the mattress, a good distance away. Spencer stared at him, unable to tear his eyes away from the sadness and hurt that kept flashing over the man's face even as he tried to hide it.

"Don't be. There's so much that-" Seth shook his head, deep crease lines completing his grimace. He seemed conflicted once again as he looked first at the wall next to Spencer's head, then met his eyes with an intense look, "Look I'll tell you…whatever you need to know once you feel better. I just wanna make sure you're up to hearing it. That acceptable?"

He looked up at Spencer waiting for an answer, relaxing visibly when he got a reluctant nod out of him.

He nodded as well, then reached for a glass of water on the nightstand that Spencer hadn't noticed before along with a small white pill that had been lying next to it.

"For the pain," he said, holding both out for him to take. Spencer hesitated, staring at both without moving for a long moment. He swallowed hard. For all this talking and being calm, this seemed to be the real test of faith required of him. He thought about refusing for a second, but then, he was in pain and he was thirsty. And in the end, what would it matter anyway, right? He wasn't going to be running anywhere anytime soon either way. There was no point in drugging him.

He reached out gingerly, trying to will his hand to be still as he moved into Seth's range of reach and took both the pill and the water. Seth didn't move, just silently watched as he drank. Spencer felt the relief of hydration immediately. He hadn't realized how thirsty he was until now.

He finished the glass, then let Seth take it from him, managing not to flinch when their hands touched briefly.

"Thanks," he breathed, leaning back against the wall in relief.

There was the faintest hint of a smile on Seth's face as he nodded, leaning back as well. He gave him a few moments then asked, "Anything else? Something to eat? A shower?"

A shower? Spencer looked down at himself. He felt sweaty and dirty all over, his shirt sticking to his skin and his hair and itchy mess. A shower would be heavenly. But…

Doesn't matter, remember? Might as well go down while clean…

He was really starting to worry about the content of his thoughts. Not that they weren't painfully logical.

"Okay," he agreed before the silence grew too long. Seth looked a bit surprised at the quick concession but he didn't say anything about it.

"Hold on a sec."

He got up and walked over to the door, opening it and taking a look at the hallway. It seemed to be empty judging by the way the set of his shoulders relaxed after a moment. Spencer refused to think about the other men that might be waiting, instead focusing on getting out of the bed.

Seth stayed by the door, watching as he carefully tested his legs and finally found that he was alright to walk. The walk over to the door was harder than he'd thought; he had to convince himself to take every single step, his nerves failing him despite all his reasoning.

He let Seth lead the way down the corridor, breath held the entire time. He was grateful Seth was mindful enough not to touch or crowd him, but also that he was putting himself between him and anyone who might cross their path by default. Once at the bathroom door, Seth opened it, looking inside and then nodding to him.

"There's a clean shirt on the counter," he pointed out, "it's probably too big but it'll have to do for now."

Spencer didn't say anything to that. He quickly slipped past the man into the bathroom, barely glancing at the white fabric that had been pointed out to him. He had bigger worries than fit at the moment. Like…

"There's no key," Seth said in that moment like he'd read his mind.

Spencer turned around, shoulders tense. God, this was just getting harder and harder. How was he supposed to feel safe enough to let his guard down if he couldn't even lock the door? He hugged his waist instinctively, shivering.

"Spencer…"

He looked up to find Seth looking at him with that by now familiar troubled expression. He had lifted one hand as if to reach out, opened his mouth -but then shut it again as though he'd changed his mind at the last second. It seemed he had been about to make more promises but stopped, not sure if they would even be welcome.

"I'll wait out here," he said instead after a moment, "make sure no one comes in."

He didn't wait for an answer, closing the door behind him as he left. Maybe it was better that way. Spencer wasn't sure what he would have said.

Once he was alone, he just stood in place for a long moment, merely breathing in and out slowly and deliberately. What to do? What to do? Should he really just trust that Seth would keep him safe and take his shower? Yes, he didn't have a whole lot of options –but that didn't make this any easier.

He looked around the bathroom like that could ease his decision. It was small and windowless, merely a shower, toilet and a mirror over a small sink crammed into the insufficient space. Nothing else…no potential weapons, nowhere to go…. Not much of a choice, was it now?

"Just get it over with already," he whispered to himself. All this fretting was just gnawing at him. He was here already; he might as well make himself feel better.

He walked over to the shower, turning on the water and then slowly and carefully started to take off his clothes. He was still aching all over, but worse than that he felt dirty and sweaty. Suddenly he couldn't wait to get under the water.

He barely waited until it was up to an acceptable temperate before getting into the shower, pulling the curtain closed behind him. The first impact of water on his skin almost felt like a shock, and he gasped, supporting himself on the wall with both hands. That feeling… for a moment something slithered across his mind, a fragment of thought too dark to really see, too quick to grasp…

He blinked, not sure what he had just felt. Another memory?

If so, he didn't feel that choking fear from before so he just let it go, too glad to feel the warm water raining down on him to want to think of anything else. Closing his eyes, he let it run down his aching body, soothing some of the worst aches and washing him clean.

Gradually, he relaxed, tension fading. He stood like that for maybe five minutes before he found it in himself to move and wash himself clean. Every muscle in his body seemed to protest as he lathered himself and by the time he got to washing his hair he actually felt exhausted.

It was when he was putting the shampoo bottle back down that his eyes fell on his fingernails. There was something dark caked under them, something hat he knew instinctively as blood not dirt.

He shuddered, the sight instantly bringing him back to reality.

If only he could remember what had happened. It must have been really bad for his mind to shut it out so completely. He really needed to ask Seth after this. He needed answers. He needed to at least know that whatever threat there had been was gone now.

Seth. He did remember him, if only in fragments and he thought he remembered him as being familiar and safe, but like everything else those memories were all mixed up with others and over layered with this latent panic…making it difficult to really see anything straight. The way the man looked at him made it clear that he cared about his well being…but…he wasn't sure but he thought that maybe there was more to that look, something deeper…

He groaned in frustration. If only he knew their exact history...

He closed his eyes, trying to just calm his mind and remember more, something concrete, to focus and not think about anything else anymore.

Closing his eyes, he stood and listened to the water falling around him, cascading down his body. There was something there, he'd felt it before too…

Water was raining down on him, blurring his sight…long fingers were brushing his hair out of his face, tugging at the strands…another body pressed to his, lips at his neck… '-so beautiful…' He could feel hands roaming over his skin, setting it on fire…insistent kisses stealing his breath…

Cold tiles in his back, those hands the only thing holding him upright as his legs felt like jelly…everything was blurry, the bathroom around him fading into the background…all he could see were those black eyes, like coals, burning into him….

'Seth,' a gasp falling from his lips as those hands made him squirm with pleasure, heat curling in his stomach…'Seth, please-'

Spencer's eyes snapped open, cheeks burning and pulse suddenly racing as he realized just what he was remembering. "Oh," that was all he got out before his brain was swamped with more memories, a violent assault that he couldn't shield himself from.

He was shaking, crying so hard he thought he would choke on his tears…there was red tinting his vision…blood, everywhere, his clothes his skin, their blood… blood even on the hands that had come up to keep him from falling to the ground. 

'Kid…talk to me! Come on now, open your eyes, look at me-' Seth sounded so worried, so uncharacteristically afraid…Spencer could barely hear him over the echoes of screams in his head….dead, all dead, their empty accusing eyes staring at him…all because of- 

Spencer moaned as his vision swam and his stomach turned, his whole body reacting violently to the sudden onslaught of impressions. Terror, so real, so palpable, was suddenly all he could feel…before he knew it he was stumbling out of the shower, away from the water, the sound, the feeling of wetness against his skin…

Shaking, he caught himself against the sink before he could collapse, fighting to catch his breath, to not completely give in to panic….

Through the tears filling his eyes, he stared at his hands, at the marks around his wrists that were red and chafed…the discolorations on his arms…his torso… His head snapped up and then he was staring at his own reflection. His eyes went wide, breath catching in his throat at what he was seeing.

It was worse, so, so much worse than he'd expected…dark bruises on his face, his neck…split lip and temple…his body, over and over littered with marks, scratches, bruising. some in the shape of fingers, some clearly stemming from a knife…

He stared at himself in horror, a sob escaping him as his legs once again threatened to give in.

Just in that moment there was a sound behind him and the door was pushed open.


	6. Chapter 6

Seth was leaning against the wall by the bathroom door, counting the rows of bullets he still had in his pockets. At the same time he was listening to the sound of the shower behind the wall and the possible sound of steps nearing from somewhere else in the house. Wouldn't put it past Carlos to pick another fight or try something even more stupid…

He had meant what he'd said. No one was going to go past him. With the state Spencer was in right now, he couldn't let anything else happen to make it worse.

He scoffed, shaking his head at his own thoughts. Sometimes he still couldn't believe how far he'd spiraled out of the realm of sanity in just a few days. He barely recognized himself, his every thought of Spencer, every fiber of his being honed in on him entirely.

Truly obsessed. 

Usually he would have seen that fact as worrisome, especially considering he'd already lost control once with the kid because of that same fixation -and that had been when Spencer had still had the sense to oppose him at least somewhat.

Now it was even worse because Seth only had himself left to debate about right or wrong, to reign himself in.

Surprisingly enough, it hadn't been entirely difficult so far. Yes, there was always this nagging voice in the back of his head that kept telling him that he couldn't let Spencer leave, that he needed him, all of him -but so far he was being spared by the obsessive longing, that dark craving that would have made him worry about Spencer being safe in his company. He wasn't sure why that was, maybe the aftershock of what had happened with the vampires and Richie distracting him from anything that wasn't immediately tied to survival.

Most likely though it was Spencer's state.

Seeing the kid like this, all weak and messed up, intimidated and jumpy was somehow hitting him even worse than he'd thought.

In a way the situation was similar to when Spencer had been his hostage – but it also wasn't. Then, Spencer had been scared and distressed, yes, but there had been a certain ardor and fierceness about him, a hard core probably stemming from years as a profiler, something that wouldn't budge no matter how often his body gave in. It had been one of the first things he'd admired about him, a trait that he was sure had kept the young doctor from cracking during everything that had happened. Now, that part had been buried along with his memories, leaving him completely vulnerable and without any sort of shield or protection to fall back on…

It made everything inside Seth scream protect. Just like when Richard had been little and he'd devoted his every waking moment to making sure he was safe –only worse still, because deep down he'd always known that Richard could fend for himself, that in a way he was scarier than anything that might attack him.

Spencer had none of that though. He only had him.

Yes, he has a wanted murderer who got his friends killed, held him against his will with death threats and then r-

Seth shook his head harshly.

No. That was in the past. He'd made mistakes, unforgivable ones, but that had been before he'd realized just how much Spencer was to him, how much he needed him to be alive and well. He would be safe with him. This time he would.

Still, even though he was sure of that, it had been hard sitting across from Spencer and pretending to be someone he would see as a friend, not a threat. A small crime, added to his already long list- but yes, small considering he alternative. Somehow he didn't think that being truthful and telling Spencer he was a murderer slash fugitive who had kidnapped him would have done the kid any favors.

In that light, he really hadn't had a choice.

-Yeah, keep telling yourself that. You're just hoping to get his trust, to get him to stay somehow. You would have told him anything to get him to stop being afraid of you.

-No. He's sick. I don't want to upset him, is all. That's not saying that once he's better I won't-

-Liar! The devil knows what you wouldn't do to keep him with you!

Again, Seth shook his head harshly, trying to chase away the voices arguing in his head. Before he could succeed on his own, his thoughts were suddenly interrupted when there was a noise from inside the bathroom, followed by a strangled moan, the sound so distressed that he didn't even think before spinning around and pulling the door open.

He half expected to see the kid collapsed on the floor with his leg broken or something on top of everything else. Instead he found Spencer on his feet, standing in front of the sink but looking like he'd literally just stumbled out of the shower, dripping and naked.

For a moment Seth froze, just staring. Before he could be dangerously distracted though, a strangled sound filled the room and his eyes were flitted to the kid's face in alarm. It was only then that he realized that some of the water dripping from his hair into his face were indeed tears and that although wet the kid wasn't trembling from the cold. Spencer's face was a contorted mask of distress and pain and for a moment Seth felt himself catapulted back to the day before when Spencer had broken down crying in another bathroom. He looked just like he had then and for a dreadful second Seth was utterly convinced he had remembered everything.

The thought made him feel cold with fear, of what that would mean, of what he might do…

"What happened to me?"

So distracted by his own thoughts, Seth barely had time to register the question before Spencer swayed, his legs giving in under him after all. He fell to the floor in a heap, whimpering as he pressed one hand to the side of his head, the other to the spot over his heart on his chest, like he was having pain or couldn't breathe.

Hyperventilating again. God, not another panic attack-

Seth was by his side kneeling on the ground before he'd remotely thought the action through. He wasn't surprised at all to feel Spencer flinch when he put a steadying arm around his back, or to find his head snapping up stare at him out of glassy, terrified eyes.

He almost backed off again, afraid to make things even worse with the proximity, but then he realized that he was wrong. Spencer looked terribly rattled, clearly having remembered something awful –but it wasn't fear of Seth that was showing in his expression and posture. Once their eyes met and locked, Spencer froze, just staring at him, his expression clearly showing a conflict between uncertainty and a silent plea for help. He seemed to be torn between wanting to seek help and being too afraid to even move.

Seth let out a breath of relief. Whatever had come back, he clearly hadn't been featured as the villain in those memories. Maybe it was the vampires, maybe his friend's deaths… His eyes fell on Spencer's upper body and the array of marks that were undisguised now without any clothing to cover them. Well, or that. That would explain the question and the breakdown, too. Shock over his appearance and its implications. But it wasn't him, otherwise he knew Spencer would be fighting him tooth and nail right now trying to get away from him.

No, it was still like it had been half an hour ago. He might be vary of Seth -but right now that was by ninty percent overshadowed by the horrors he clearly had remembered and that were now real to him.

Realizing the dilemma, Seth made the decision for him. He wrapped his arm around the young man's shoulders a little tighter, pulling him in just slightly. "It's okay," he murmured when Spencer tensed, voice and expression soft, "It's over now. You're safe."

The other hand he slowly brought up to gently cup the side of the kid's face, caressing his cheek consolingly. Spencer's breath hitched but he didn't move as Seth brushed his tears away with his thumb. For a long moment, he just kept staring at Seth through wet lashes, the last bits of common sense apparently battling the need to be comforted even if it was by someone who hadn't exactly been 'cleared' yet.

Seth could see the exact moment the former lost in those hazel eyes, just a second before Spencer sank against him, practically collapsing in his arms.

"I…there was so much blood…someone…died…I, I was so scared, it hurt so much, they-"

He sobbed piteously, more tremors wracking his slight frame. Seth brought him fully into his arms without hesitance, tucking his head under his chin and carefully stroking his back in a calming motion. "Shh, it's alright…it's over, Spencer. They're gone, they can't hurt you anymore. You're safe, you're fine."

He didn't know how often he repeated those words or how long it took, but eventually Spencer calmed down enough to catch his breath. After that, it took at least another five minutes before his tears started to subside and he stopped murmuring about blood and darkness and screams.

Then, slowly, he seemed to become aware of their position, stiffening slightly. Seth couldn't help but notice though that he didn't try to move out of his arms just yet, still leaning on him for support. Apparently he'd earned some trust at some point. Granted, it was obvious that the kid would latch on to any sort of support in his condition, but still... The thought made his heart swell despite the unpleasant circumstances. Carefully, he threaded his fingers through tangled brown hair, soothing wordlessly.

"What- happened?" Spencer's voice against his neck was so desperate and small that it tugged at Seth's heart, but also determined.

He nodded, letting the motion be felt through their proximity. For a brief moment he closed his eyes, permitting himself to hold Spencer just a little while longer, stalling. Who knew how long this phase woudl alst and when/if he would get to hold him like this again...

"Okay," he eventually murmured, slightly off-pace. His hands moved over the kid's bare shoulders as he tried to find his focus again. He could feel him still shaking, but realized that by now there were goose bumps all over his skin, cold also coming into play now.

Seth reached up to pull the clean shirt from the counter and leaned back slightly to drape it over Spencer's shoulders. "Okay, I'll tell you."

xxx

"What happened to you?"

The same question over and over again. He can't bear to hear it anymore, keeps hoping they'll grow weary of being presented with the same silence every time they ask. 'Insanity', he once read, 'is defined as performing the same action over and over, expecting different results.' 

He almost wants to laugh at that, not only because the reciting of trivia is so much like him, the way he was before...back when everything was easy and he thought he actually did know everything. Back before he woke up to an absolute nothing, his mind and his heart a blank, forced to piece his identity back together based on the vague suggestions of a man possessed.

Seth's intense gaze, his touch, calloused fingers touching, caressing, holding him...it all reshaped him, turned him into what he is today. A man torn between the past and the present, between being a man who spouts of quotes about insanity and a man who understands what it is like to feel insane.

"What happened after the bar? You have to tell us, Spencer. What did he do to you?"

Desperation in that old familiar voice.

He stares at the wall, his mouth too dry to answer, his eyes too wet to look up. 

What happened to him? 

Seth happened. Insanity followed. 

He can see it clearly now as he closes his eyes, blinking tears away and opens them, expecting to find Seth standing in front of him, just there gazing at him out of those eyes that can be so hard and cold but that are always so soft for him, only for him... He can't remember how often he's repeated that same action since he's been cooped up here in this windowless room, deaf to the questions raining down on him.

'Repeating the same action over and over expecting different results.'

He doesn't know why he keeps expecting to see him instead of them. 

Seth is gone. 

Even saying it in his head doesn't make it feel real. He has spent so much time with Seth always being there, always with him, from fingers in his hair waking him in the morning to a warm body pressed against his at night. He just had to blink and Seth was there, like his shadow, like the moon to his earth. Unconditional and constant, whether he wanted him there or not.

But now he's gone and Spencer is alone. He knows he should feel relieved. He doesn't. He just feels cold and empty. 

How did it come to this?

He doesn't know what to tell them.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"We were...travelling through Mexico."

Seth wasn't looking at him as he spoke, fixating the opposite wall instead.

Spencer, who was lying on his side in the bed, back to the wall and wrapped securely in his blanket, looked up at the man sitting next to him, leaning against the bed frame with one leg stretched out alongside Spencer's and the other drawn to his chest.

The proximity was by far not as unnerving to him as it had been before, be it because his breakdown in the bathroom had emotionally exhausted him to the point of resignation or because it had showed him that Seth wasn't going to do anything to him. Either way he hadn't protested when Seth had helped him off the bathroom floor to help him get dressed and make it back to the room and into bed, not when he hadn't gotten back up from it. At this point, insane or not, he was actually beginning to feel safer with the man sitting there between him and the door like an additional wall to keep out everything that scared him. It might have been naïve and reckless but at this point he felt like he was falling apart, eaten alive by fear. He needed something, someone to hold onto.

Having no memory except for the knowledge that something awful had happened to him was still immensely unsettling, and having remembered enough by now to be relatively sure that Seth was someone who would want to keep him from further harm, who cared about him, was an immense relief.

Even with that relief though, he still needed to know what had happened desperately. He knew he would never be able to truly rest otherwise. Seth seemed finally convinced too because even though he could obviously see Spencer's exhaustion he hadn't refused to tell him again. Granted, he didn't look happy, but he was talking.

"Travelling by car. You and I, with my brother and a girl, Hazel." Seth paused at that, looking at him in search for a reaction. When he didn't get one he continued, pauses, "We ended up in this bar one night, the four of us and some of your friends. It was...unexpected. We were attacked by the patrons. They locked us in, tortured and tried to kill us. We fought with all we had but it still ended bloody."

Spencer nodded slowly, focused on the piece of blanket he was picking at. Even hearing this didn't make him remember anything more clearly even if it fit with the memory fragments he had. He didn't remember a girl, or any…friends…he remembered scenes of violence, screams, blood, and dead eyes.

He shuddered at the thought that those memories were about someone who had been close to him.

"Where are they now?"

"They're dead. All of 'em," there was a bitterness in Seth's voice that made it clear that he was mourning for at least one of those people. His brother…Spencer felt his heart sink at the thought. How awful. He's lost his family and instead of taking the time to grieve he's stuck looking out for me…

Seth kept on talking, oblivious to his thoughts. "I think that's part of why you can't remember. It was just too much. You saw them die...your friends, everyone. In the end we beat those monsters and I made sure they wouldn't be able to follow us…but you almost died, too."

He did look at Spencer at that, the pained, haunted expression in his gaze more intense now and Spencer couldn't tell anymore if it was for that brother or for him.

Seth cared about him a lot, now that he was taking the time to really look for it he could see that. There was so much emotion in his eyes when he looked at him…that and there were the memories he had of course, memories that had faded into the background with everything else going on until now but that were still there and that led him to believe-

He felt heat rising in his cheeks with the most inappropriate time he could think of; quickly he pushed those thoughts away and cast his eyes down at the blanket again.

"I don't remember that," he murmured.

"Maybe that's better," Seth mused, his expression cloudy, "I sure as hell wish I didn't have to."

Spencer shifted uncomfortably next to him, suddenly feeling like he should say something. "I'm sorry about your brother."

Something like a smirk curved Seth's lips at that, partly amused but mostly bitter. "I know. I am too but I had to make a choice."

"What?" Spencer asked, confused when he could not follow.

Seth's smile faded, his gaze becoming serious as he met Spencer's eye. "It was you or him. I couldn't let you die."

He looked dead serious. Spencer stared up at him, speechless as the impact of those words slowly sank into his muddled brain. Even then, he was sure he must have heard wrong. Seth wasn't saying what he thought he was…was he? That he'd chosen him over his brother?

Spencer sat up abruptly, ignoring his protesting joints as he gaped at the man next to him, trying to find the words to form a coherent question-

He didn't get to.

Before he got a single word out, the room's door was suddenly slammed open and both of them jumped at the noise, completely unprepared. Their heads snapped around and Spencer froze when he saw the men from the kitchen stepping into the room, their expressions sinister.

Seth was up in an instant, his hand reaching for the revolver on the nightstand.

"I wouldn't do that, Seth," the man named Carlos stepped forward, his own gun in hand and aimed at them, "I have no beef with you, my friend, but the boy needs to go."

There was no doubt as to what exactly he meant with go.

xxx

The room's door was suddenly slammed open and both of them jumped at the noise, completely unprepared. Their heads snapped around and Spencer froze when he saw the men from the kitchen stepping into the room, their expressions sinister.

Seth was up in an instant, his hand reaching for the revolver on the nightstand.

"I wouldn't do that, Seth," the man named Carlos stepped forward, his own gun in hand and aimed at them, "I have no beef with you, my friend, but the boy needs to go."

There was no doubt as to what exactly he meant with go.

Spencer felt the by now familiar sensation of cold fear spreading through his veins again as he stared at the armed men across the room. Every alarm bell is head was going off at the scene before him –and this time he was sure he wasn't misinterpreting anything.

His heart started racing when the man named Carlos stepped closer, followed by the others, his expression menacing as he released the safety catch on his gun. He has to go. There really was no misinterpreting that. They were going to kill him, for real this time.

All remnants of calm gone in an instant, Spencer scrambled to get out of bed and to his feet, flight instinct returning with a vengeance.

Before he could even figure out where he wanted to run to though, Seth quickly lifted one arm, keeping him back in the same moment that he took a step forward.

Spencer stopped in his tracks, his eyes flickering over the man's posture, his slightly crouched stance and tensed shoulders to realize that it looked like he was preparing for blocking an attack -as well as attacking. What-?

Seth didn't look back at him to explain.

"Are you fucking serious, Carlos?" he asked darkly, the aggression in his voice thinly veiled.

He sounded truly scary even without a look at his expression and it was clear that the others weren't unaffected by that.

Spencer swallowed hard, somehow frozen in his spot between Seth and the bed.

He's protecting me…he really is protecting me… 

Maybe he shouldn't have been so stunned by that realization, after all Seth had promised just that over and over…but only actually seeing it made him believe it for the first time. Don't move, his brain quickly supplied, You wouldn't make it alone. He said he wouldn't let them touch you…he won't…

There wasn't much room for doubts in the situation. At any other time he might have doubted because of the absolutely lethal tone in Seth's voice, or the fact that there must be a reason apart from really dirty looks that he was able to scare these men like this…but right then with Seth as the only thing between him and death, those priorities shifted.

He did the smartest thing he could. He stayed where he was despite every fiber of his body screaming at him to flee over the rushing of blood in his ears, unmoving, anxiously staring at the two men facing off in front of him.

Carlos was sufficiently distracted anyway right then. He looked worried at seeing Seth's determination, but that didn't mean he was backing off. On the contrary, he stepped forward, a deep frown marring his dark face as he addressed Seth.

"You know I respect you, man, but I told you…I can't have him here. It's too much of a risk for all of us."

Seth didn't move out of his stance by an inch, his voice low and deadly, "You take one more step towards him and I swear you'll regret it."

The vigor in his voice stunned both Carlos and Spencer. It was obvious he really, really meant that.

For a sheer endless moment nobody moved or blinked even. Carlos didn't move closer and Spencer could see the hand with the gun shaking slightly –but he also saw the thick, stubby finger eventually curling around the trigger as the gun's muzzle moved to aim at his chest. He drew in a sharp breath, every muscle in his body locking in terror as he realized the man was going to shoot despite Seth's warning.

Everything happened very fast then.

The sound of a gunshot ripped through the tense silence, one that Spencer knew was aimed at him and that he wouldn't be able to evade. In the same second, before he had even begun to consider moving or closing his eyes or praying, Seth suddenly whirled around, grabbed him and shoved him out of the way.

Spencer stumbled back, only after a long second realizing that the pain of metal ripping through his chest wasn't there, that he wasn't hit.

By then Seth had already whirled back around, just in time to keep Carlos from firing a second shot by grabbing the man's arm and twisting it harshly. Carlos yelled loudly, fighting back and then they were in a full on fight, both of them pushing and shoving, Carlos trying to shake Seth off and Seth trying to get to the gun.

Spencer stared at them in shock, finding himself unable to move as he watched Carlos landing a punch in Seth's gut while Seth's fist smacked into Carlos' jaw with unrestrained force. The sense of déjà vu was like a punch to his stomach, so powerful it took his breath away. He had seen this before, Seth kneeling on the ground, fighting someone like this…

There had been blood, too…and there was now, on the floor where the two men were fighting, on their skin, and he couldn't tell where it was coming from, or how much it was…

He whimpered when memories threatened to overwhelm him again, knowing that this wasn't the moment to break down, not with those other men still around…

"Fuck it! I'll do it then!" He had barely finished that thought when one of the men suddenly moved and made a grab for him, yanking at his arm.

Spencer shrank back with a yelp, trying to yank his arm away but the man wouldn't let go no matter how hard he tried. The man held him tightly while reaching for something in his pocket and producing a knife.

"No!" Spencer cried, panicked.

It fell on deaf ears. Before he knew it he was spun around and shoved onto the bed face first. The next second the man was on him, a knee digging into his back, a hard hand roughly twisting one of his arms onto his back.

Spencer yelled out in pain and fear, thrashing wildly as he tried to get away. The man ignored him, grabbing him by his hair and forcing his head up. Spencer froze when he felt the cold metal of a knife against his throat. Cold metal, biting pain…he was going to die…

"No!" Seth roared close by. There was another shot, and then a scream and the next second the weight on top of him was gone, the bulky criminal dragging him to his feet and using him like a shield.

Tears shot into Spencer's eyes from the pain of his hair being pulled but even through a blurred vision he could see Carlos on the ground, clutching his bleeding arm, and Seth already getting up from the ground, gun in hand. Once standing, he didn't spare another glance for Carlos, his eyes immediately focusing on Spencer and the man holding him.

"Agh-" Spencer winced when the man pulled at his hair harder, yanking him back.

"Shut up!" the man snapped, then extended his arm, pointing the knife at Seth threateningly to keep him away, "You! Back off!" Spencer could feel him take a breath to say something else, a threat probably -but Seth didn't wait to hear it.

In a flash he was right in front of them, grabbing the man's hand with the knife and twisting it harshly. There was a sickening crack and the man screamed, dropping the knife and releasing his grip on Spencer to clutch his broken appendage.

The second Spencer was free Seth grabbed him and pulled him behind himself, blocking him from everybody else. Only then did he focus on the rest of the men, aiming the gun he'd won at them threateningly. There were two men left, blocking the way to the door. Both of them were looking between Carlos who was bleeding on the floor, their buddy with the broken hand and Seth with alarmed expressions. Clearly they weren't as confident anymore, or as determined to likely get seriously hurt just to get to Spencer.

"Out of the way," Seth growled, finger on the trigger, "move or I'll do it for you."

It was clear that neither man doubted he meant that, that he would shoot. After a moment of thick silence they both gave in, apparently deciding it wasn't worth it and moved aside. Seth's focus didn't waver as he grabbed Spencer's wrist blindly, pulling. Spencer stumbled after him as they moved towards the door and outside.

Seth only glanced at his face briefly as he looked back over his shoulder before pulling him along faster as he hurried down the corridor. He didn't say anything and Spencer couldn't have said anything had he wanted to right then, the shock of what had just happened still sitting too deep. He was just glad that his legs were obeying him and letting Seth get him out of there, away from…

Spencer cast an anxious look back over his shoulder. They weren't being followed yet. No one came after them, not even when they ran out the back door.

There were three cars parked next to the house and Seth pulled him over to one of them, yanking open the door on the passenger's side.

"Get in," he demanded urgently, practically pushing Spencer into the seat before running around to the driver's side, getting in and then racing them off the premise and onto the road.

Then they were on the highway, long before Spencer's brain and body even started to reboot and recover from the shock like state they'd gone into when he'd almost died. Once they did he realized he was shaking, sweating and shivering at the same time, feeling like he was about to black out.

It all just kept flashing in front of his mental eye, the men, the guns…the knife at his throat and the realizing that that man was really about to slit his throat…Seth raising hell, shooting Carlos and breaking that guy's hand like it was nothing…all that violence and blood and screaming…all of it filling his head, so much of it by now that it felt like there was nothing else beside it…and in the midst of all Seth…with liquid eyes but a deadly voice and steady hand on the trigger of a gun-

"-re you okay?" He jumped, startled out of having spaced off by a hand on his arm. His head snapped around to find that Seth was staring at him urgently, "Spencer, talk to me, are you okay?"

Spencer just stared at him, his mouth opening and closing but no words coming out. All he could see was red, all he could do was to keep from screaming.

Was he okay?

He really didn't think so.


	7. Chapter 7

"Kid! Are you okay?"

The urgency in Seth's voice snapped Spencer out of his stupor.

He jumped, then, realizing his unraveled state, forced himself to still and take deep breaths to calm himself down. It worked only moderately well –probably also because the stress that was causing him to panic wasn't gone yet.

Seth was still driving at a mad pace with one hand on the steering wheel, blood on his fingers and a gun by his side, everything about his expression and posture screaming tension. He looked like he was fully prepared for another round of fighting and shooting should anyone come after them. Wild, dangerous, unhinged.

Spencer gulped, instinctively pressing his back into his seat and clutching at its sides. He was rattled enough; Seth's state and his mad driving weren't helping matters.

It took him a moment to even register the question, then even longer to form an answer in his head.

Okay? No. Everything that had just happened considered, he was extremely certain that he wasn't okay.

He had been tethering on the edge ever since waking up - but that last dreadful experience certainly hadn't helped matters. By now he was just a nervous wreck, torn between wanting to cry and scream and curl in on himself and just shut himself off from all of this horror -the immediate one as well as the one he couldn't fully grasp still- that he couldn't run from.

But who wouldn't be? Even without the physical symptoms, the creeping fear and the vicious flashback, anyone would react badly to almost being…killed.

He shuddered as he reached up to touch the place where the knife had been pressed to his throat, finding a small smear of blood there. The sensation caused the panic he'd felt then to spike back up, flooding his veins-

No. No, no! With an enormous amount of effort it seemed he kept himself from hyperventilating. No! It was alright, the danger was gone. They were gone now, they had left the men behind…Seth had saved him…he just needed to catch his breath-

"Spencer!"

Seth was still waiting for any sort of answer, sounding more upset by the second by his apathy.

"Y-yes," he nodded shakily, well knowing that the man was asking if he was physically alright, "Yes, I'm okay."

He jumped, his heart jolting when Seth suddenly lashed out, slamming his fist onto the steering wheel. "Fucking –fuck!"

His head snapping around in shock he stared at the man next to him, immediately feeling even more distressed. He sunk further into the seat, his breathing flattening out.

Seth had saved him back there, and he was getting them away from danger at the moment -but with the way he was acting right now, so aggressive and unpredictable, and remembering what had happened back there with Carlos…

Spencer shivered as he was reminded of more details of what had happened. How utterly frightening Seth had looked, how easily he'd matched the violence they'd been presented with – the memory of that alone was enough to turn his stomach and make him freeze up in an almost automatic response. It made the little voice in his head that was telling him that there was something off about his rescuer/possible friend grow louder and louder.

After the attack, he'd been so shocked that he hadn't done anything consciously, just allowing Seth to take over and get them out of the situation. It had been survival instinct he supposed, latching on to any source of protection…and Seth had so readily stepped in front of him to protect him.

That protectiveness, along with the worry for him he could hear in the man's voice still now was the only thing keeping him remotely grounded at the moment. The only thing that allowed him to not completely freak out at the thought of the violence, the darkness, the outbursts exhibited by a man who was currently racing him down an abandoned highway in the middle of nowhere…

He pressed his eyes shut, fingers clenching in the material of the seat as he tried to force himself to stay calm.

Breathe, just breathe…it doesn't matter. You're transferring your anxiety because he's acting like this…it doesn't mean it's justified… He's just upset. He kept you from getting hurt, he's not going to hurt you…what else matters right now?

He wasn't even halfway through that improvised mantra when next to him Seth swore loudly, again hitting the steering wheel viciously in open anger. This time he hissed, cringing like he was in pain.

Spencer, whose head had snapped around in fear, felt his eyes widen in alarm when he looked at the man's arm and suddenly realized that there was wetness soaking through Seth's sleeve, a sleeve which was marred by a hole in it.

Every chaotic thought whirling around his brain just stopped then, completely pushed back by the slowly creeping realization that Seth was bleeding.

No, not just bleeding. Bleeding from a gunshot wound.

Within milliseconds the fight scene at the safe house flashed in front of Spencer's mental eye again…Seth pushing him out of the way…one gunshot…then later, another…Carlos hit only once-

Oh, God. 

He stared at Seth, the last bit of color washing out of his face.

Noticing his reaction, Seth stilled, refraining from hitting the wheel again. "Sorry," he frowned, "I'm just so fucking pissed at those bastards-"

Preoccupied as he was staring at the blood, it took Spencer a moment to even understand what Seth was apologizing for - by then his anxiety over the way Seth was acting had been pushed into the background by the sudden, mindboggling turn the situation had taken.

"Your arm," he rasped tonelessly, "You-"

Spencer broke off, unable to make his lips form any more words.

Seth had been shot.

Shot.

Shot for him as he'd pushed him out of the way. And just like that he couldn't breathe again.

Seth seemed surprised by his words but also oddly relieved that Spencer's focus wasn't on his manic behavior anymore.

He didn't even glance at the wound. "It's nothing," he said quickly, shrugging the matter off, "just grazed."

Spencer shook his head in dismay. He could see that it wasn't nothing. Seth was losing blood continually. He was shot for God's sake….oh, goodness, he was going to faint while driving, they were about to have an accident-

"Stop the car."

Seth didn't even slow down in the slightest, instead glancing into the rearview mirror. Anxiously, Spencer followed his gaze, finding that they were alone on the dusty road. No one was following them. Still, they weren't getting slower and Seth wasn't listening to him and what was he supposed to do, the guy was bleeding and-

"Seth," Spencer tried again, a distinct edge of panic to his voice now, "We're gonna crash. Please, stop!"

He must have sounded desperate enough then because Seth ground his teeth, checking the street behind them again. It took another minute or so but then he finally slowed down to an acceptable speed.

"Hold on. I can't stop right now," he said, "they might be following us."

Realizing there was nothing he could further do and that he was out of control didn't exactly help Spencer at that point. With a distressed whimper he pressed his eyes shut tightly, drawing in more irregular, shaky breaths as he clung to the seat, just trying to block it all out. -crash, gonna crash and-

"Spencer." A heavy hand wrapped around his shoulder, squeezing insistently. Another thing distracting him from driving…isn't that the injured arm…oh god… "Spencer!"

"Yes," he got out when Seth practically yelled at him, forcing himself to open his eyes.

Seth was looking over at him intently. "You need to calm down," his fingers flexed on his shoulder as he took a deep breath and continued on in a softer voice, "We're not gonna crash. I'm fine. I've had much worse, believe me."

He sounded so convinced and stern, and thankfully not faint that it actually helped calm Spencer down slightly. Slightly. Considering how upset he'd started out it merely meant he didn't feel like screaming frantically anymore…everything else remained.

Seth watched him out of the corner of his eyes for a moment as he stilled, but he clearly knew his words hadn't done much good because he kept on talking,

"You're okay, kid. I know the words mean shit to you right now with everything going on, I know you're scared…and why wouldn't you be with all that fucked up-… but I can't do anything about that right now, so I…I just need you to believe it. Believe that I'm doing my best to fix it."

Fix it. Ha. That might have sounded more reassuring if he hadn't just been witness to Seth's way of fixing things...

Spencer gulped, shivering as his eyes involuntarily fell on the hand on his shoulder.

"You broke his hand...like it was nothing..." the words got stuck in his throat. He was trying and he knew this wasn't the time but he just couldn't get that picture out of his head. The fingers around his shoulder flexed and briefly Spencer was extremely aware of them touching his collar bone before they suddenly vanished.

"He was going to slit your throat, Spencer."

Spencer gulped, shivering at the memory. For a long moment he said nothing but finally he nodded, biting his lip to keep it from trembling. Then he forced himself to lean back in his seat and stop freaking out at least outwardly. He's right. That man deserved it...but Seth won't do that to you even if he can. You're okay. You're okay.

Still there wasn't a fiber in his body that even remotely agreed with that statement. But it was clear that Seth wasn't going to stop so there probably was no point in arguing and endangering them more by distracting the man further from the road.

He tried to just accept that he would have to wait this out, tried to convince himself that it was okay…yes, he'd almost been killed but no one seemed to be following them so they were safe from those men…yes, Seth was shot and bleeding but he looked like he was handling it pretty well…and yes, so Seth was all kinds of scary, leaving Spencer with no choice but to come with him at this point…but then, the man had protected him…he'd caught a freaking bullet for him!

How much more proof could he possibly need that he wanted him to be safe and unharmed? Whatever their past, or the definites of their relationship…Seth had saved his life risking his own. How ungrateful would he be to even doubt his intentions now? He was taking them to safety, what else did he need to know?

With that in mind it was a little easier to think the You're okay bit and possibly believe it at least partially. Maybe he wasn't okay per se, but Seth wanted him to be…and considering Seth was in control right now that seemed like the deciding factor.

That way ruling out two reasons for his fear he was left with just one…Seth losing too much blood to get them anywhere.

But that was something he could do something about, wasn't it?

Some logical part of his brain logged back on by then, pushing back the mindless panic in favor of actual productive thought. Yes…if Seth wouldn't stop to check on the wound he would have to do something…he needed to pull himself together already.

It took a few more deliberate breaths to strengthen his resolve but it worked at least somewhat. With unsteady hands Spencer reached out across the space between them and touched Seth's arm carefully. Seth glanced down at him in surprise at his changed behavior. His expression was slightly strained but he didn't pull away or do anything rash, giving Spencer the confidence to continue.

The fabric around the wound was ripped and it was hard trying to get a clearer look at the damage, especially without being distracted by the nauseating sight of blood. Spencer did his best not to notice that. He needed to see how bad the wound was, if the blood flow needed to be checked immediately…Seth could go into shock depending on how bad it was…

How he knew that he had no idea, or why it would feel familiar to think about it…he just did.

"I can't see the bullet….it looks like it really just grazed, but it's deep. You'll need stitches."

"Told ya," Seth sighed, "It's fine. Really. I'll fix it once we stop."

"Where-?"

"I dunno. Next motel along the road," Seth nodded straight ahead at the road where there was nothing but dust and sand as far as the eye could reach, "shouldn't be more than an hour."

Too long.

Knowing he needed to do something, Spencer turned around to look into the back of the car. There were two bags lying on the back seat. He leaned over and reached for one, going through it hastily, fully focused on the task at hand. The more he did, the less weak and shaky he felt which was a good thing. He sorted through the contents of the bag. There were files in there, some other stuff and another gun. He hastily pulled his hand back and grabbed the next bag. In it was a change of clothes it seemed, a dark suit jacket and two ties. He grabbed one of them and turned back around, sliding into his seat.

Then he leaned over again and with some effort wrapped the tie around Seth's biceps above the wound. With a sharp tug he pulled it tight. Seth hissed but didn't move otherwise, letting him tie a tight knot. When he was done Spencer fell back into his seat with an exhausted exhale, hands trembling as he wiped fresh blood off on his jeans.

"Thanks."

He blinked at the odd tone in Seth's voice, and when he looked up he was met with a gaze that was thankfully devoid of agression now, just some tension but also that same softness he had shown before back at the safehouse. Silly as it might be, the sight instantly calmed Spencer significantly. He knew it should probably worry him even more that Seth personality seemed to shift so quickly, but in fact, it actually made him feel better sort of. The more often it happened, the easier it was to differentiate, to tell himself that while Seth had been so scary and violent just minutes ago he was different with him, that he wouldn't-

It wasn't logical. Still.

Whatever there was between them, whatever kind of bond there had been that had been severed and disrupted by his amnesia and that Seth was trying to fix – the details didn't matter quite as much anymore as the general feeling that there was something. Despite all remaining doubts it calmed him, made him feel better, safer.

Safe enough to sit back and let Seth take him towards the unknown. Whoever Seth was, he had kept him safe so far. He could only hope that it was a trend.

xxx

It took about two hours before they came by a motel on the side of the road. By then it was pitch black outside, a fact that was putting Seth as well as Spencer –even though he wasn't quite sure why- on edge even more.

They had ridden in silence, both of them tired and tense, literally expecting Carlos and his gang to show up behind them after all.

No one had followed them so far though and by some sort of miracle Seth's circulation hadn't rebelled and caused him to black out from pain or shock all throughout. His knuckles were white and his breathing strained, but he had pulled through liked he'd said.

"This should do," Seth said as he glanced up at the front of the motel through the windshield.

Spencer followed his gaze, the feeling of unease that had been covered by sheer exhaustion after his adrenaline shock earlier returning.

Was he actually booking into a motel not even knowing which city it was in…or near…with a man he knew virtually nothing about except that he was prone to violence and had a couple of guns he knew how to use with him?

No matter how often he said it in his mind, it didn't start sounding smart…the opposite rather.

Noticing his hesitation, Seth looked over at him, a frown settling on his face. "You alright?" he asked.

Spencer looked at the dark-haired man next to him for a long moment. He could see Seth was sweating (from a bullet with your name on it) and there were dark circles under his eyes (he probably didn't sleep while he was making sure no one would come into the room while you were too weak).

"Yeah," he breathed before he could change his mind.

He might still be uncertain about this, but he would be safer with Seth than alone right now, he knew that. Yes, there was still a lot he needed to have explained but it was too late and they were too tired for that whole conversation to take place now and quickly enough for Spencer to go anywhere else tonight. With the state Seth was in he would hardly be up for an extended game of ask and tell. Plus, Spencer didn't have a car, or money, or any idea where he was or how far he was from his home.

No, for now this motel seemed like the best option till everything was cleared up. Come on now. You do remember travelling with him…more than that…you wouldn't have been doing that if you hadn't been sure it was safe.

Right.

Plus, he could hardly leave Seth alone now with a wound that was technically his fault.

In the end, it wasn't much of a decision. He unbuckled his belt and got out of the car.

Seth did as well a short moment later. He didn't comment on that tense little moment as they walked over to the motel swiftly.

The man behind the registration desk looked at them funny –probably not surprisingly, by now they were both looking pretty battered –but he handed them a room key wordlessly.

The first thing Seth did after opening their door was to check the closet as well as the bathroom, hand on his gun, before locking the door and shutting the windows tightly, pulling the curtains shut. Then he sank down on the bed with a groan, falling back against the headboard.

Spencer, who had hesitated by the door, feeling that odd sense of déjà vu again for a brief moment, couldn't help but feel a mix of guilt and worry as he looked over at him, knowing that he had caused his bad state.

Meanwhile, Seth was tugging the tie off his bicep and shrugging off his suit jacket, hissing when he moved his arm out of it. Spencer winced at the sight of his arm. It was completely red with dried blood.

He watched as Seth leaned over to open the nightstand and rummaged around it till he pulled out one of those complimentary sewing kits. He threw that on the bed then opened the door beneath the drawer which turned out to be a little minibar. From there he took out what looked like a bottle of liquor, popping it open one handedly and taking a long swallow.

Spencer's eyes widened when after that he poured some of the liquid over his arm and into the wound. He pulled a face at the sting, then reached for the sewing kit.

Spencer's stomach turned when he realized what he was doing. He must have made a sound because Seth looked up at him, momentarily distracted from his plans. "You should probably sit, kid. You look like you're about to drop outta your shoes."

Numbly, Spencer followed the man's advice, walking over to the bed and sinking down on the mattress, his eyes never leaving Seth's arm.

"What are you-?" he asked, his voice wavering.

Seth smirked dryly, one handedly fumbling with the needle. "You said it yourself, this needs to be stitched up."

Spencer gulped, fighting down nausea at the images rising up in his mind. He knew Seth was right but still…to do this like this…without anesthesia and with his left hand nonetheless…

"Let me," he said, once again speaking without thinking.

Seth raised an eyebrow at him, again looking just as surprised by his behavior as he had in the car. Spencer didn't say anything, pressing his lips together as he reached for the needle and pulled the thread through it.

"Ya sure?" Seth asked as he picked up the liquor bottle and handed it to him for disinfection.

Spencer took it and on impulse took a large gulp of the amber liquid. He coughed as it burned in his throat watering his eyes, then poured some into his palms as rubbed them together, ignoring the tremble in his fingers.

Seth chuckled faintly at his behavior, "Taking the edge off?"

Spencer blinked when the words tickled a memory at the back of his mind, making him realize that this too felt familiar. He smiled faintly. Funny how so many little things were starting to come back while he still couldn't remember anything remotely important.

He looked up at Seth, the sight of him with the background of a motel room oh so familiar. Well… maybe the little things were important, too…at least they were making him feel safer, more secure. The little things and the fact that Seth wasn't mindlessly hitting inanimate objects anymore of course.

Remembering the task at hand, he shook his head, trying his best to focus despite his exhaustion.

"This is going to hurt," he warned as he scooted a little closer so he could get to Seth's arm, "and I have no idea what I'm doing…"

Again Seth just chuckled dryly, "Do your worst, doc."

xxx

It was harder to do than he would have thought, if only because the thought of sewing through living human skin while the person could feel it all was disturbing to him. He did manage though, grateful that Seth barely moved or complained during the procedure. As carefully as possible he sewed the wound closed.

A silence had fallen over the room at some point which was almost comfortable. At least to Spencer it seemed that way; for the first time in what seemed like forever did his pulse reach a normal level again, his adrenaline level finally sinking after hours and hours of incessant stress setting him on edge.

Seth had thankfully remained calm and focusing on the task at hand helped Spencer take his mind off other things at least partially…although...there was one question burning on his mind that he couldn't help but ask.

"Why did you do it?" he eventually asked so quietly that at first he thought Seth hadn't understood. There was so much that didn't make sense, leaving him with no ground to stand on…but that one question…it felt like if he could get the answer to that one it would clear up so much more in the process.

The answer came fairly quickly, "Get shot you mean? Well, it wasn't exactly my plan…"

Seth's crooked smirk faded quickly when Spencer looked straight at him, his real questions plainly reflected in his uncertain expression. It was replaced by the same incongruous expression that Spencer had seen peeking through a mask of calm and control back at the safe house…something between sadness, pain and just sheer…emotion…sheer enough to make him shiver from the sudden intensity.

He wasn't nearly prepared when Seth unexpectedly leaned forward slightly and lifted his good hand, reaching out to tuck a long strand of hair behind Spencer's ear, his fingers ghosting over his cheek like an afterthought.

Spencer's breath caught, his first instinct being to pull away...but the touch was just so...gentle and careful, bearing absolutely no resemblance to the hard hand he'd seen breaking bones like twigs just hours ago... Like it's two different people...

He didn't move.

Seth's eyes looked almost black as he gazed at him, his inner turmoil showing in them once more, "You almost died on me once…and I just can't- I won't lose you. I don't ever want to feel that way again."

Spencer stared into their depths, unable to even blink as his heart skipped a beat, miraculously not from fear this time. The way Seth was looking at him...so...intensely. He could feel a lump building in his throat, the fingers on his cheek suddenly making his skin tingle...

"Seth…" his mouth felt dry as he fought to react, overcharged with his own reaction, torn between uncertainty and faint memories of feelings unexpectedly welling up inside him…

He drew in another shaky breath and suddenly Seth blinked, something like guilt flashing over his face.

"Sorry," he quickly pulled his hand back, eyes clouding up, "I know you don't remember that…or me…or anything. I'm still wrapping my head around the fact that you don't even know me."

Spencer blinked rapidly as well, pulling back and wrapping his arms around his waist instinctively when he realized how he'd just reacted, his brain logging off for precious seconds. His face crunched up in conflict. God, this was just so confusing. He felt so torn, so utterly lost without his memory and nothing but random memories that didn't even coincide. One second he felt scared in Seth's presence, the next...oh gosh...

Just now...what was that...? 

The way Seth had looked at him just now, he'd felt that all the way to his core...

Another memory flashed across his mind, that little scene he had remembered in the shower of them being...close...He still wasn't sure if that was even a real memory but...he thought of what Seth had said just before Carlos had interrupted them. That he had made a choice between him and his brother and saved his life…

"Seth…", his mouth felt dry as he forced himself to form a question to which he knew he needed an answer, and needed it now before his brain imploded, "What…is our relationship exactly?"


	8. Chapter 8

Their tombstones are next to each other in the cemetery. Four empty graves, four glaring reminders of holes that cannot, that will never be filled. 

Maybe if their bodies were here it would be easier for him to believe they are really gone, maybe he could begin to find closure then. As it is, he doesn't really believe they are gone, even with the crippling gap in his everyday life, the empty desks in the bull pen, the oppressive silence in the roundtable room., on the jet, in the SUV, everywhere… 

Even seeing their names staring at him from where they are carved into white stone doesn't make it real. 

Aaron Hotchner. Jason Gideon. Elle Greenaway. Spencer Reid. 

It has been four months since their funeral and Morgan still wakes up with clear images of them on his mind sometimes, so clear that it never feels like a dream. He still catches himself expecting to find Hotch sitting behind the desk when he opens the door to an office that is now his, still smells Elle's perfume in the hallways, still hears Reid's animated chatter about this and that, overenthusiastic and impossible to block out. 

If only he had listened more, paid more attention then instead of being dismissive and annoyed. If only he had been there more, done more… 

He knows Reid's loss is what is hitting him the worst of all. Not only because of how close they were but because letting the kid get taken hostage was what started everything, what inadvertedly caused the death of all four agents. 

He just cannot get over that, no matter how often everybody tells him it wasn't his fault. He didn't protect Reid when it was his duty and the ones who took over his job died for it. 

Sometimes he thinks that the only reason he does go on, that he gets up every day and enters a building filled with painful memories is because of Garcia and JJ. They've lost so much already, their friends, a family. 

They are brave about it; they have to be, after all life at the BAU must go on. They have welcomed David Rossi and Ashley Seaver with friendliness and politesse but it is clear that new agents filling open gaps only made those gaps all the more painfully obvious. Seaver didn't make it long, probably because of the graveyard ambiance that follows the three of them wherever they go. She's said to be replaced by the end of the month but Morgan doubts there will be any difference. They are broken, torn apart. They only do their jobs because they know they owe it to Hotch, Gideon, Elle and Reid.

It will never be the same. He will never be the same.


	9. Chapter 9

"I'm not safer than a bank  
But I'll tell you this  
'Cause you're bound to find out  
Nothing is"

xxx

"What's our relationship exactly?"

Spencer swallowed nervously as he looked at Seth. It wasn't an easy question to ask and between what he had experienced today and the little bits that he remembered of them he wasn't sure if he even wanted an answer.

Still, he had to know at least that much if he couldn't ask the other billion questions he had right now. How else was he supposed to decide about how to feel with his situation or what to do with it?

He shifted nervously on the mattress, once again highly aware of the high-risk situation. Yes, he had come here of his own accord…sort of…and he did think that he knew Seth. He was even pretty sure by now that the man cared about him. The question was, Why?

Brothers was out, Seth had told him his brother was dead…friends…possibly but somehow that didn't fit with Seth behavior towards him…

From what he'd remembered so far it was very well possible that there was a physical relationship between him and Seth, that maybe they were some sort of…couple even…

He bit his lip, his heart beating slightly faster at the thought. Sexual history and orientation was obviously one of the things he'd forgotten -but at least the latter was relatively easy to guess at. Seth was very handsome by any standards and if he considered the way he had felt in that flashback or even just now when the man had touched his face…

He shivered involuntarily.

But even if…

Firstly, he couldn't be sure of their exact relationship and what it entailed, and secondly he still wasn't over how he had experienced the other man today. It was pretty obvious that he wasn't a boy scout by any standards. He was tough, aggressive, armed and seemingly very used to violent and dangerous surroundings.

Spencer on the other hand just felt scared and weak and rattled by those same things. He just didn't see how that, how they fit together…

If he was with Seth how had that happened? Had he also been like the man and just didn't remember? Or had he felt like he did now before? Why had he stayed then?

Either way, Spencer felt more and more nervous the longer he thought about the implications of what he could only assume to be true. If they were in a relationship…what was Seth expecting of him now? If he stayed, would that be like agreeing to going to back to how it had been before?

He gulped, suddenly feeling slightly queasy. Attraction or not…he wasn't sure he would be able to do that. Or that he should do it, for that matter.

But then…was else was he going to do?

Leave? He wouldn't know where to go, if he even had friends and family somewhere…and even if Seth told him who to meet, there was no guarantee he would remember them.

Plus, what if he and Seth really were a couple….what if he –gosh- loved him…and would only realize what he'd left behind once he remembered?

Torn, he looked up at Seth tensely, sure that his inner turmoil was clearly displayed on his features. He didn't try to cover it up. He needed an answer. After all, no matter how close they might be, this was like being in a motel room in the middle of nowhere with an almost complete stranger. He couldn't just stay here and go to sleep like that wasn't an issue -no matter what his former self might have done.

"Seth?" he asked, growing warier when the other man didn't answer his question after almost a minute. He was just sitting there looking at him with an oddly strained expression on his face, one that Spencer couldn't clearly identify.

Once again, the thought that if they really were lovers this must be really hard on Seth crossed his mind. He pushed his discomfort at that thought down. There was no way around this.

"Seth?" he asked once again, nervously wrapping his arms around his midsection and picking at the oversized white shirt he'd been given, "I- I'm sorry if… I just have to know…there's things that I think I remember…about us…but there's also so much- I…"

"You're scared." Seth said, his voice sounding oddly hoarse. The implied of me was clearly visible in the creases of his face.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, hugging himself more tightly. He couldn't help but feel sort of guilty once again. Seth was sitting here, bleeding from a gunshot wound he had gotten saving his life, and yet he was doubting him again…

He opened his mouth, wanting to refute the man's statement, tell him that he wasn't scared of him, just of the situation, but the words wouldn't come. True, Seth didn't look or act scary right now but…

Seth's face darkened as he assessed him, an expression Spencer was quickly becoming used to.

After a long moment, he sighed, nodding to himself. "Who wouldn't be? You have all this shit to process...everything, with Carlos, and this place, and me acting like a complete maniac. I should probably be surprised you're even still here. But then, I didn't give you much of a choice there either."

xx

Seth heard himself talking while in reality he had no idea what to say, not to the actual question at least.

He could fully understand Spencer's worries and of course he'd known that at some point he would have to answer the billion questions that obviously stood between them. Everything considered he really was surprised that the kid was this collected –he had come in here with him without any more protest after the initial panic attack in the car and he'd even helped him dress his wound…

He shook his head.

This kid never seized to amaze him. Even with everything going on, Spencer wasn't the kind of person to just walk away from someone who was hurt, especially if they had gotten hurt for him. It seemed that despite the memory loss, Spencer had kept his most prominent characteristics like his compassion, but also that subtle toughness. How else would he be sitting here now, after everything that had happened today, starting with the nightmares and flashbacks and ending with another violent attempt on is life, and have already pulled himself together enough to be this collected and calm?

It wasn't new to him that Spencer was stronger than he looked, but still he hesitated at that one particular question.

However he chose to answer, it would put lots of additional pressure on him, maybe finally too much.

It could have been easy he supposed, but whatever bonus or get out of jail free card he had had because of the amnesia, he knew he had used that up rather quickly with the way he'd been acting, threatening people and waving guns around and breaking that asshole's hand back there. It all probably didn't exactly scream trustworthy.

But he couldn't have Spencer leave-

He pressed his lips together tightly for a moment, his attention fixed on the way the kid's fingers were clenching in his shirt.

"I'm…not going to pretend that what you're worried about is nonsense, or that I'm a good man," he finally said, his voice rough, "You saw what you saw."

Spencer tensed even more at those words, just slightly but noticeable. But he didn't move, just looked at Seth out of those damned large eyes. Much too trusting, but at the same time not enough…

"What happened to you was my fault. I brought you to that place, that bar. My brother is on me, your friends are on me, that," Seth reached up to trail his fingers along the side of Spencer's face where the skin was still discolored, "is on me."

His heart actually ached at that notion and he couldn't help it; even though he knew he shouldn't he lifted his other hand as well, cupping the kid's face and looking at him intently, "But…you need to understand that I would never want- I…you, you're everything-"

He knew he was over disclosing, that he was overcharging the young man –he could tell from his reaction, his expression and breathing, even if he didn't try to pull away from him. Still, now that he had started the words seemed to be spilling out of him, unstoppable.

He shook his head, desperate. He had never attempted something like this, being gentle and reassuring and sincere all at once; there had never been the necessity to.

He held Spencer's gaze, willing him to understand somehow. "I don't know how to make you understand this but I swear it's the truth…I hate that you got hurt because of me and I never want it to happen again, in any way…I just wish you would stop looking at me this way…it's driving me insane…but I can't…"

He pressed his eyes shut, suddenly feeling utterly drained, not just from the blood loss and insomnia but also emotionally. He let his head fall, forehead touching Spencer's as he just tried to cope.

He wasn't surprised when he felt the kid stiffen at the increased contact; it was obvious he was overstepping every single boundary there could be here and likely making everything worse with it…he just couldn't help it.

Spencer moved back, out of the reach of his hands and Seth forced himself to let him, to give him some space. He didn't need to look into the kid's face to see how fragile he was right now, how little it would take to destabilize him even further. He hadn't been lying when he'd said he absolutely hated that wary, apprehensive look that Spencer had given him much too often already. He hated that he was seeing a slightly varied version of it now, not exactly pain or fear maybe, but a certain amount of distress certainly.

"Seth…" Spencer had scooted back even further on the mattress, like he had suddenly remembered that he had no actually substantial memory of the man on the bed with him, like reason had finally set back in. He was back to hugging himself, looking terribly lost and vulnerable again.

"I- I don't think I can do this, I don't even know y- I mean maybe I do…but, I know nothing else, just that…I don't know who I am, who you are, how we met, -I-"

Watching the kid stumble through his worries reinforced the heavy feeling in Seth's chest. If he had been a better man he might have agreed right then, admitted that he was right to be wary, to not feel safe around him, that he wouldn't actually feel safer at all if he remembered him. He wasn't though.

"Kentucky," he said instead.

Spencer looked up at him in confusion.

Seth moved back until he was sitting against the bed frame, giving the kid some space being the best thing he could bring himself to do.

"The first time we met was in Kentucky. I was sixteen. It was at a sanatorium. My brother had mental problems and he had to stay there...your mom was at the same place, getting treated for her schizophrenia."

Spencer's eyes widened at his words, it was obvious he was immediately distracted from their prior discussion as a look of utter concentration appeared on his face.

Seth wasn't surprised; that was a lot of information to take in at once. At least it was the truth though. Probably.

For a few long seconds the young man didn't outwardly react at all, then his face suddenly crunched up like he was in pain, realization flashing over his face.

"I remember her," he whispered, a hand coming up to cover his mouth, "my mom. She…she had blonde hair and sad eyes. She would read to me...but she couldn't always take care of me, she was sick…sometimes there was no talking to her. She wouldn't even recognize me. We had to-"

He broke off, his voice trembling. Seth remained silent, unsure how much he had remembered, if it was just his mom or more about him as well.

"Is she still there?" Spencer eventually asked rather urgently, his focus clearly still on his freshly remembered mother. It seemed that it was easier for him to recall things if they were told to him, and if it was only in fragments. Seth made a mental note to remembered that before answering.

"Yes."

"My dad?"

"Split when you were ten."

"Siblings?"

Seth shook his head. He didn't know all that much about Spencer really, just what he had told him back at the bar when they'd been drinking. But so far it seemed enough.

Or too much maybe.

He could practically watch the kid's face falling, a despaired expression taking hold in it.

"So I have no one then," he whispered tonelessly, appearing smaller than ever as he held himself, "No family that misses me and no friends alive."

"There were three of them," Seth offered, "Elle died first. You tried to save her but you couldn't. the other two…Hotch and Gideon died protecting you. They just wanted to get you out of there."

Spencer listened, then nodded, swallowing thickly.

There were tears shining in his eyes suddenly and for a moment Seth was torn between mentioning Agent Morgan and hugging Spencer to comfort him. He did neither, for more or less noble reasons. It left him just sitting by uselessly, not knowing what to do, while more tears ran down the young man's face, tremors suddenly shaking his body.

So there it was then. He should have known that even Spencer wouldn't be able to take all of today's strain without eventually reaching a breaking point. Apparently, it was now.

"I'm sorry," Spencer gasped, trying to suppress a sob, "I just-"

"It's okay." Seth couldn't help but think of Richie right then and that maybe if he could still cry after all these years, he would want to as well.

Instead he finally gave in to impulse and reached out once more, running a hand through Spencer's hair, light and hopefully comforting. Spencer turned his head up at the touch, and Seth already excepted him to pull away again, but this time he didn't. He just stared at him, his eyes shiny with tears and conflict, an expression in them that Seth couldn't fully identify. He smoothed his thumb over the kid's temple, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

After a long moment Spencer finally broke eye contact, pressing his lids shut tightly and taking a few deep breaths. There were no more sobs after that; he managed to calm down at least slightly.

"Do you have anyone waiting?" he asked after a while, surprising Seth with the question.

"No," he shook his head, "my brother was the only one and he's dead now."

"How'd we end up in Mexico?"

Back to questions then? Well, that had been a quick meltdown. Not that he was complaining. As long as Spencer didn't ask about labels again he should be good.

"I was here with my brother. You were with your friends and we met again by chance. It was bad timing -for both of us- things got pretty messed up, with Richie, and your friends…they hated me, said I wasn't good for you. They weren't happy when I just took you with me. They were trying to get you back home when we met them at that bar actually."

All true. Sorta.

God, he was really going to burn.

Spencer didn't pick up on his more destructive thoughts, busy processing his story and adding it to what little recollection he had. For all his doubts, he seemed surprisingly quick to just accept Seth's words as truth. Seth couldn't help but wonder how much and what exactly the kid remembered about him. Must be pretty good if it could babalnce out his behavior today…

"Was I going to go with them?" Spencer asked, interrupting Seth's thoughts.

He hesitated fro a moment, truly torn this time.

"I don't know," he finally told him.

In a way, he honestly didn't. Who knew how the whole thing would have turned out, if Spencer would have ended up dead or kidnapped again….

He knew that wasn't what the kid was asking about but he just couldn't bring himself to say no. Luckily, Spencer didn't insist on further details.

In fact, it seemed he had been struggling with the last couple of questions after his little breakdown, clearly too exhausted on every level to even keep his eyes open, much less focus. He had probably just soldiered through the last few questions because he wanted to know so desperately. But apparently this was where mind over matter ended, even for Spencer.

Seth took in the way the young man was barely holding himself upright, looking like he might just drop on the spot, especially now with the adrenaline slowly leaving his body and his worst worries and fears no longer powerful enough to keep him alert.

In a way it was a good sign, Seth supposed. Some of what he said must have had a positive impact at least. It wasn't much (and certainly still not right, a tiny part of his rain supplied) –but for now, in this situation it was probably the best outcome he could have hoped for.

Baby steps, tomorrow's another day. 

"You should get some sleep, kid. You can't heal if you don't rest."

Spencer nodded, looking almost thankful for a moment before his eyes widened, becoming more alert again despite his exhaustion. Seth followed his eyes as they lingered on the mattress before flickering up to him still sitting on the bed.

He was on his feet before he could get a chance to give him another one of those hated looks. It would have been one too many for today.

"I'll be on the couch in the other room."

"Seth..." the look Spencer was giving him was somewhere between relief and guilt. It told him he'd made the right decision.

"Just sleep," he said softly, "We'll talk more tomorrow. Who knows maybe you'll remember more then."

After a moment, Spencer nodded, still looking troubled though.

"What if I don't?"

"Then we'll figure that out, too."

.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Lyrics by Matthew Good)


	10. Chapter 10

The door fell shut behind Seth with a soft thud.

Spencer didn't move for a whole minute, his body seemingly not properly connected to his brain anymore. His whole day had been such a roller coaster of emotions and now that he was suddenly sitting here, alone and in silence, it almost felt unreal.

He kept staring at the door but Seth didn't come back in and all stayed quiet.

Seth…among all of his chaotic thoughts he was the most flaring and prominent right now. Even now that his brain was already in the process of shutting off he couldn't help but think about what had just happened.

There was just so much to process…his mother, his family situation…everything he'd just been told.

Seth hadn't been very clear in all of his answers, something he should probably be concerned about especially since the man had admitted to mistakes, and to maybe not having an entirely clean vest…but somehow all that had really stuck in his brain was how despite that the man had seemed so honestly regretful and pained, how obvious it was that his concern and his gentleness were authentic.

It was probably some sort of survival mechanism he realized, his brain trying to cope by blocking out even more things to worry about…but that wasn't all of it, was it?

No, it seemed like they really were in a relationship. From what he'd understood it sounded like they had met again only recently…and had maybe started up an affair. That would mean their relationship was rather young and rocky, but it was obvious that Seth had deep feelings for him. And that for one was reassuring.

So what if others might be at health risk in Seth's company? There was no one else here right now.

The other thing he had been worried about, expectations, had also seemingly solved itself with Seth readily leaving him in here alone and giving him space. Like a nonverbal promise that there would be no pressure, nothing too stress about.

It probably shouldn't have been such an utter relief considering how screwed up the situation still was –but in that moment Spencer was just grateful that he had something, some basis to relax on.

Yes, there still were tons of other issues. He would have to decide what to do, if he would go or stay come morning no matter if his memory returned or not. But at least now he felt he could safely postpone those decisions for a while. He was alright. He was safe here. As safe as he thought he could be right now.

With that, exhaustion finally got the best of him and he couldn't manage to fight it off any longer. Yawning, he shifted on the bed and pulled the blanket tightly around himself before settling down. He was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

xxx

Horror rose in him as he stared straight ahead into the bar room. Seth had stopped dead in his tracks next to him, cursing under his breath.

Demolished tables and stairs, turned over and splintered, the windows broken and the bar littered with broken bottles.

Bodies. 

Five of them, sprawled on the ground, unmoving, marks all over them, massive stab and gunshot wounds. Empty eyes staring up at them.

He felt the air leave his lungs. Dead…all of them…murdered…

Then darkness…a shadow creeping towards him in a spiderlike manner, slow and terrifying like a zombie…a monster with eyes darkened by hunger and bloodlust. 

And he knew he was going to die, die- 

Before he could even finish the thought the creature in front of him suddenly blurred only to reappear right in front of him and grab him, moving him like a rag doll, one hard hand gripping his hair and jerking his head back while another squeezed his chin in an unforgiving grip, forcing him to face…Seth.

Seth! 

With a gun in his hand and the same horror that he was feeling written all over his face. He wanted to reach for him, to scream for help, but he couldn't breathe, merciless fingers squeezing his throat. Then there was a hiss at his ear and pain suddenly, red and flaming. 

He could feel blood flowing down his chest and wished that he could scream.

x

He could barely think over every aching of every fiber of his body, the dizziness, the racing of his heart. His pulse was rushing in his ears, sweat dripping off his temples, making his hands slippery along with the blood that covered them. It was hard to think straight and he didn't want to try, hoping to somehow block out the picture of Elle's dead eyes…

x

Hotch's bullets didn't miss their aim. Almost manically, he emptied the clip, killing his attacker.

x

"You have to do something for me. Find the exit. Get home…and please…tell Jack and Haley I love them."

He pressed his eyes shut in agony, tears falling down his cheeks. He was sure he would choke on his tears. This couldn't be happening.

"No, no, Hotch," he all but begged, shaking his head frantically, "You can tell them yourself. Hotch, you will!"

"I'm sorry."

More blood, on his hands, his clothes all around him…nothing else but cold and darkness. All alone, all of them gone, because of him-

"NO!"

With an anguished cry Spencer shot up in bed, panting and shaking from the horrible nightmare that had been tormenting him.

He gasped for air, feeling tears burn in his eyes, his heart beating so frantically it almost physically hurt. Fear, live and all consuming was running through his veins like fire, blinding and choking him, leaving him breathless.

He jumped when a door close by flew open and hasty steps approached him, but he couldn't see, disoriented by darkness. Strong hands found him, grabbing him by the shoulders, an urgent, alarmed voice right above him calling his name.

Seth.

Reacting completely out of instinct, he grabbed for the man's shirt in the darkness, desperate for something to hold onto as his body struggled with the panic that was drowning every nerve and cell. Seth had protected him, he had to now…he wouldn't let them-

"It's okay, it's okay," the hands went up to cup both sides of his head and he could feel warm breath on his face, "just a nightmare, kid. Come on, breathe."

The sensation of those warm fingers touching him, the only thing solid and tangible he could perceive right then, the only thing contrasting the darkness threatening to pull him back into the nightmare was like a beacon of light and Spencer clung to it without a second thought.

His fingers clenched in the shirt he had hold of desperately as he sobbed, shaking uncontrollably, horribly afraid that Seth would vanish, that he would be all alone with…

He fought the grip on his face, burying it against a solid chest instead as he tried to get a better hold, to cling on tightly enough to be safe.

After a terrifyingly long moment, Seth's arms came up to wrap around him, pulling him further against his chest and Spencer felt so relieved he thought he might faint.

Seth was with him…he hadn't left him alone with all this horror, hadn't left him to die…he'd been so afraid he would, that he would be left abandoned when he needed someone to save him, to protect him so badly. He wasn't strong enough alone, couldn't-

"Please, don't leave me…please, they-"

"Shh," Seth's voice was right by his ear, his hand smoothing over his hair soothingly, "You're safe. I'm not letting you get hurt. Ever."

"I…oh, god…they…I was so…" He couldn't stop shaking.

Seth held him tightly. "What was it?"

"I-I don't know…it…it's gone now…I just, I was so scared…"

He pressed his eyes shut, trying to focus on nothing but the hand in his hair and the arm around him, signs that he was alright, that he was safe, anything to try and escape this sheer panic that was rattling him to the bone, seemingly inescapable.

He couldn't say anything, couldn't have said anything to explain. He didn't remember now what the dream had entailed…just that it had been horrible. It had been there just minutes ago he knew and it was still there, the horror lurking around the edges of his consciousness, but it was like his brain wouldn't let him see it now, like there was some sort of wall…

"I can't-"

"Don't," Seth said, "It's over…just go back to sleep."

Spencer shook his head desperately, terrified at the thought of being alone with the darkness again, unprotected. He clung to the other man more tightly, "No…"

He thanked whatever power there was when Seth didn't let go or try to escape his death grip, instead running a hand up an down his back.

"Close your eyes," he murmured into his hair, cradling him carefully, "I won't let them get to you. I'll be right here, I promise."

xxx

It wasn't going to get any more surreal than this, Seth was sure. If his dead mother had walked in right now with a baby unicorn in her arms he wouldn't have been more surprised.

Whether it would land him in hell or not he could honestly say that he had lucked out when Spencer had lost his memory and with it everything that had stood between them.

This however, having the kid in his arms, clinging to him and refusing to let go, unable to calm down without him…it really made him want to rethink his stance on the whole God-thing. Although, giving credit where credit was due…Satan-thing.

He stopped that train of thought in its tracks, not wanting to be distracted from what was happening.

It had been about ten minutes since Spencer's nightmare had given the both of them a rough awakening. Again, he had looked so rattled and tormented that Seth had been sure he'd remembered….but again his brain seemed to block any traumatic memories while he was awake, leaving him with just an undefined fear and lots of confusion.

Still now the kid seemed so out of it that Seth wasn't even sure he fully understood what was happening here. How else would he have gone from wary of even being touched by him to clinging to him like his life depended on it?

He looked down at Spencer whose hands were still tangled in his shirt if a little less tightly now. He had calmed down enough that his shaking was almost gone, but he was still all but pressed to him, his wet face buried in his chest.

He looked to be half asleep again by now, exhaustion getting the best of him so Seth leaned back against the bed frame and tried to get comfortable, pulling at the blanket to cover the kid's shoulders with it. Then he just sat there, still baffled by how much everything seemed to have changed in just one day.

Never in a million years would he have thought, expected, dreamed…yes, Spencer was ill, he wasn't thinking clearly…but still. He was here with him, in his arms.

He brushed an errant strand out of the young man's tear streaked face, trying to get a hold of the chaos of feelings inside his chest.

This, as messed up and wrong as it was, felt like the closest thing to perfect he'd experienced in years…He had no idea how Spencer could not remember who he was at all, or who Seth was or how their relationship had really been. But he didn't care honestly.

He could so easily pretend that this was reality, that he really was some sort of savior, or good guy, that Spencer's suffering wasn't really his fault. That this was right.

And he would, he realized.

If he had any morality in him, it wasn't enough to make him tell the kid the truth and drive him away that way. No.

By some screwed up logic Spencer thought he needed him? Could trust him? Was with him?

He would let him believe it, and let him believe it till the kid remembered, always hoping it would never happen. Screw the trauma, the nightmares, the questions that would have no answers.

He would explain it all away.

He would try to be the person Spencer thought he needed no matter the consequences. Even if Spencer would hate him for it later on.

Holding the kid in his arms like this and getting a glimpse of what happiness might look like, he simply couldn't make any other decision.

"Today is gonna be the day  
That they're gonna throw it back to you  
By now you should've somehow  
Realized what you've gotta do  
I don't believe that anybody  
Feels the way I do, about you now

And all the roads we have to walk are winding  
And all the lights that lead us there are blinding  
There are many things that I  
Would like to say to you but I don't know how  
Because maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me"

-Wonderwall, Oasis


	11. Chapter 11

New Morning

Light fell into his face, slowly but insistently raising him into awareness.

Spencer grumbled at the disturbance, still half asleep as he buried his face in the pillow for protection. He didn't want to wake up; it was so warm and comfortable and perfect just as it was right now.

He snuggled closer to his pillow, ready to fall back asleep when…wait, what-? Only belatedly did he realize that said pillow was actually rather hard, and it was breathing.

With a start Spencer was awake, eyes snapping open to stare at the broad chest his head had just been resting on, then wandering up to the sleeping face attached. It all clicked back into place in the same second then: Seth, the amnesia, the troubling flashbacks, the attack back at the safe house, Seth getting hurt, the nightmare and then-

Oh. Oh, goodness. Had he really done that? Clung to the man in his panic, refusing to let him leave? What had happened to keeping a distance because he was just not sure of-

That question made him acutely aware that he was not only not keeping a distance, but that he was actually lying half on top of the older man and that there was a hand on the small of his back...

He sat up abruptly, his heart immediately starting to beat faster.

It wasn't a nice feeling to go back to being distressed, especially after waking up so relaxed, but he couldn't help it. Not just because remembering the events of the day before and his dire situation didn't cease to be distressing…but also because of the sleeping-in-the-same-bed-with-a-handsome-but-definitely-strange-on-so many-levels-guy.

Spencer gulped. Nightmare or not, and even if he was almost sure by now that Seth had only tried to help him and that they had probably once been close enough to warrant sleeping in the same bed-

No, actually that thought was only making it worse. No matter how familiar the man felt, or how honest he seemed in his affection…this was too soon, too much, too close.

He didn't know how to handle being so vulnerable in a situation with someone he didn't know how to trust and not knowing what they were expecting of hi- wait, what, handsome?

Had he really just thought that? Seriously? He shook his head harshly, startled by his own thoughts.

Seth stirred briefly in his sleep and Spencer froze, sitting extremely still as he stared down at the man like an alien species.

It left him with mixed feelings. His brain was still supplying information about reservations and risk factors and guns and poor impulse control but somehow it failed to really reach him the longer he just sat there and stared down at the man.

Maybe it was because Seth looked so…relaxed in his sleep, so little worrisome…There was slight stubble on his face from neglecting to shave. Spencer couldn't help but notice that the man did have very handsome features, especially when a tight and aggressive expression wasn't distracting from them. Surely with the right kind of smile put on…

He shook his head. Even the fleeting notion that this might be his lover was too much for him to even consciously think about right now.

Instead he focused on how peaceful and warm and safe he had felt just minutes ago. Safe feeling that there was someone there watching out for him, who would hold him and defend him from danger, from his own irrational fear…

Suddenly feeing slightly chilly he wrapped his arms around himself wishing back for his spot under the blanket and a more peaceful state of mind but at the same time disturbed by his own thoughts.

This wasn't right…he shouldn't be thinking like this, feeling like this. He couldn't even remember properly Seth.

But still…he remembered how terrified and ratted he had been before falling asleep. Seth had not only taken care of him, he'd made him feel safe, sheltered…despite everything else that he had done so far, that was practically all he had done for Spencer. And even if there was a physical relationship to be considered, it didn't look like Seth would push him into anything he didn't want. Would it really be so bad to just believe the man at this point, to just allow himself to feel safe with him?

Probably not. He'd already decided that yesterday, too. He was safe with Seth. He repeated the sentence in his head, just to internalize it. Good. There, a basis. At least that he wouldn't have to worry about then.

Which left him with the rest of his problems.

It was obvious that his memory wasn't about to come back, at least not fully. What was he supposed to do now? It had sounded yesterday like he would have almost nowhere to go if he wanted to go home, plus he would be lost there…but he couldn't just stay here in Mexico with Seth either could he?

Who knew what the man's plans were, where he was going to go, who he was going to meet. The thought of more dangerous criminals made him shudder with fear…He didn't think he could handle any more of that. He didn't want to be scared anymore.

The question was if that was even really an option seeing how he was at the moment. Surely the fear, the flashbacks and the nightmares wouldn't disappear just because he left? And at least Seth knew what he was afraid of…

Slowly, and very carefully he got out of bed, mindful not to wake Seth as he slipped into the bathroom and washed up as quietly as possible.

The look into the mirror wasn't exactly moralizing. He still looked awful. His pants were a mess and the shirt, while relatively clean was simply too big on him; his skin was still wildly colored…but at least he was physically feeling better. Not as weak or feverish as before. Hungry maybe. When was the last time he had eaten something? He couldn't remember. Of course not.

Better get something. Seth will need something too with all that blood loss.

He hesitated for a moment, deliberating whether to wake the man and tell him where he was going. He decided against it. He needed another moment to himself to think and Seth could probably use all the rest he could get after being shot. After rummaging through the pockets of his jeans, he found some crumpled up bills. It wasn't much but he figured it would be enough to organize some sort of breakfast.

He walked back into the main room to find Seth still asleep. For a moment he just stood next to the bed then, glancing around the room which was dimly lit only by a sliver of light that was falling through a crack in the curtains onto the bed. He looked over Seth's still form, then the gun on the nightstand next to him.

Suddenly he felt oddly nervous, an odd feeling in his gut. It felt safe in here…did he really want to leave the room and risk-

He shook his head, annoyed with himself. Risk what? Carlos and the others hadn't found them or they would have barged in here during the night. And there was no other danger anymore, Seth had told him that.

Right. It was time to get himself together now. It wasn't night anymore, it was broad daylight out there and this was a normal motel without any thugs hanging around and he was just going to buy some sandwiches. If he couldn't do that he wouldn't even have to think about travelling all the way back to the states by himself.

Strengthening his resolve, he walked over to the door and opened it quietly, unable to resist checking if all was clear before slipping outside and walking down the hallway and out of the first exit he found. As expected it was a bright warm day, the sun shining down on the motel's parking lot with burning intensity.

He shielded his eyes at its brightness but didn't move, absorbing the feeling of heat with welcome. It did make him feel better in a way, helping him to focus less on the feeling of unease that he still wasn't fully able to shake.

Maybe you just need to give it some time…after all yesterday isn't that long ago yet.

Right. Slowly he made his way across the parking lot to a place from where he could see the road. There wasn't much to see, still just desert and a few cars, the motel and a little gas station about fifty feet away. No people around in the heat of the day.

He began walking in the direction of the gas station, feeling a little better with every step. Going into the gas station was hard for some reason he wasn't quite sure about, but his heart was definitely beating faster, worse even as he felt the clerk's eyes on him. He ducked his head, ignoring the look…Of course he's staring; you look like you've lost a boxing match. 

Quickly he picked up some bottled water and then looked over the available sandwiches, again lost for a moment. Great, I don't even know if I'm a vegetarian, he though sullenly. He picked up one of the plastic wrapped sandwiches which apparently had turkey on it and stared at it as if that would help him remember his eating habits.

His heart jumped when there was something, suddenly, flashing across his mind…

A man around thirty, dark hair and thick glasses…he was sitting across the motel room from him, eating a sandwich, not bothering to close his mouth while he chewed. 

'You're a doctor, right?... Seth and his silly morality tick…I don't think you're innocent. ..Are you going to get us into trouble?'

Spencer gasped as he was assaulted by images of being pushed to the ground, a knife glinting in the sunlight… He swayed, blindly grabbing the shelf to steady himself.

"Hey!"

His heart all but jumped out of his chest when suddenly someone grabbed his shoulder from behind.


	12. Chapter 12

It hit him out of nowhere, his restlessness immediately spiking and turning into panic. He could feel it, a painful grip, bruising him, mad eyes boring into his as the sharp edge of a knife bit into his skin… he couldn't breathe, thrashed but couldn't get free, couldn't escape… 

His legs going numb, Spencer swayed, blindly grabbing the shelf to steady himself. The flashback was hitting him hard enough to steal his sight, making the world around him blur. The feeling of naked panic was overwhelming, choking-

"Hey!"

Spencer flinched violently at the unexpected touch to his shoulder, his senses already overloaded and all instincts honed in on flight. He whirled around in alarm -only to find himself stared at by a startled and bewildered clerk.

"Hey, sorry I scared you, man. You alright though?"

Spencer stared at the man, frozen where he had pressed himself against the shelf, one hand pressed to his chest over his racing heart. It took him excruciating seconds before his brain even caught on to the fact that there was no knife, no hand around his throat…just a very disturbed young man in an ill fitting bowling shirt, looking at him in concern.

Spencer let out a shaky breath, trying to calm down, to get his racing pulse down somehow. Just a clerk, no one attacking him…it had just been a memory…

It didn't help much. No matter how loudly he said it in his head, his heart wouldn't stop racing, his hands wouldn't stop shaking...the fear remained, fully reawakened now after a short slumber. The urge to get away was back with a vengeance, all of his prior confidence gone in a blink, and no matter how much he tried to convince himself that it was unnecessary to be scared…just standing here, out in the open, alone, backed up against a shelf…suddenly he felt anything but calm or safe…

Apparently sensing his tension, the man pulled his hand back after a moment of silence between them, but that worried expression remained on his face.

"You alright?" he repeated, looking at his pale face doubtfully.

Spencer could see his eyes wandering over his face and lingering on where the marks and bruises were. He reached up instinctively, pulling at the collar of his shirt to cover the worst. He didn't want this man looking at him, or asking questions, even if he might mean well…he just wanted out of here…

"Yes, fine," he forced out, fighting the instinct to just duck and run. The last thing he wanted was for the man to run after him because he thought something was wrong. "Just…dizzy. The heat."

He tried to pull himself together at least on the outside, but even he could hear the tension in his own voice and knew he probably wasn't being believed. He clutched the sandwiches in his hand tightly. God, if only he had stayed in the motel room…

In a rash movement, he held up the bottle of water for the man to see, bringing it between them almost like a barrier, "Can you ring this up for me, please? I'm sort of in a hurry."

He wasn't sure how, but somehow he managed to get out of the store with his purchases. The man had given him another couple of odd looks but he hadn't said anything else to try to hold him back.

Spencer stormed back to the motel, all the way feeling like he was being followed, like there were eyes on him, someone in his back even though he was completely alone on the street. When he opened the door to the motel room it almost felt like a physical relief to be back in the half dark and stuffy room, the confined but controllable space, the calm-

There was a sudden movement coming towards him, without warning, far too fast to process what it was. Spencer's body reacted on instinct, still hyperaware because of what had happened at the gas station. He stumbled backwards, but was immediately grabbed and roughly backed against the door, the wood trembling as it was slammed closed by a large hand right next to his head.

Heart missing a beat, Spencer jumped in shock, his hands coming up instinctively to protect himself and hitting a broad chest clad in black fabric. He could feel the muscles underneath rippling in poised tension and his breath caught as he stared up into black eyes that were boring into his, stormy and sharp.

"Seth."

xxx

Seth awoke to find himself in an empty room. Immediately, he was wide awake when he realized Spencer was gone.

No! 

He jumped out of bed and hastily checked the room for signs of forced entry but there were none –which meant Spencer must have left of his own volition.

The thought hit him harder than it should have, stopping him in his tracks in the middle of the room. Pressure built in his chest and throat as he stared at the unmade bed, merely the ghost of the young man in it remaining now. Gone…

Seth's hands clenched to fists by his sides as he fought the emotions rising inside him. Of course he'd left, why would that be a surprise…?

Even without a memory of what Seth had put him through he wouldn't feel safe here.

But…what if he had woken up and remembered…Seth realized he could probably be grateful he hadn't woken up with a letter opener in his throat. Then again…maybe the kid had just run out to get the police…

Just as that thought occurred to him there was a sound across the room and the door knob turned. Cops, Carlos, vampires-

Immediately falling into action, he dove for the gun on the bed side table, then spun back around and charged the first person to enter the room, slamming them against the door and pressing the gun into their side, ready for anything.

It was only when he heard the sharp intake of breath followed by his name that he took the time to actually look into the face in front of him, shocked to find very familiar and very scared-looking hazel eyes staring back at him.

Spencer. 

His grip on the gun slipped, causing it to scrape along the door and Spencer flinched, paling even further as he realized it was there and aimed at him. The hands on Seth's chest pushed harder and when it didn't have any effect Spencer whimpered, fear flashing brightly in his eyes as he stood there, cowering from him.

Seth hastily pulled his arm back and locked the gun, shock running through him.

"Shit, Spencer-"

Immediately, he reached out with his free hand to touch the kid's arm, to reassure him -only to see him shrink away, his breath hitching.

Spencer was pale as a sheet, sweating and shaking, looking just as bad as he had yesterday morning. Seth's heart fell; for a moment he really wanted to kick himself for having screwed up yet again, for having caused this reaction…until he realized that something about that wasn't right, that Spencer had already not looked okay when he'd come in…

Had something happened? Where had he been anyway? Had he remembered? Why had he come back?

All of those questions shot through his head at once and yet he didn't get to ask them, too busy watching Spencer unravel right in front of him, shaken by tremors and sickly pale.

He did the only thing he thought might help and backed off to give the kid some space, holding his hand up reassuringly.

"Shit," he cursed again, "Sorry, I thought you were …sorry."

Spencer drew in another deep breath, then nodded shakily, obviously trying to calm himself down. He'd stopped trying to push him away though.

So still no memory then, Seth concluded, he'd just startled him with his behavior, fucking stupid as he was. As angry as he felt at himself, he also felt relieved then. This could be fixed at least, he hoped.

"Are you okay? What happened?" he asked as calmly as he could manage, "Where did you go?"

He waited impatiently as Spencer did his breathing exercises, slowly starting to look a little less panicked but still just as distressed.

"I…breakfast…" he finally got out, and moved his hands minimally.

Seth looked down at the packed sandwiches squished between them in surprise. He'd gone out to get them breakfast?

The thought touched something in his chest that was soft but before he could focus on it, Spencer spoke on, redirecting his attention to the obvious problem he had.

"I…gas station…but then I," he swallowed hard, shuddering, "…it felt so real and this guy…touched my shoulder…and I couldn't breathe…out there…Seth, I can't breathe-"

Without any warning he sank down, his legs giving in. Seth caught him automatically, despite Spencer's bad reaction earlier. They ended up kneeling on the floor together; still Spencer didn't try to push him away, too busy trying to stop himself from hyperventilating.

Seth held him, not as worried as he was relieved still…He didn't have to be a genius to figure out that this was due to another flashback. Seeing how damaged the kid seemed to be that he still wasn't getting better was dismaying of course…but at least it had made him come back here…

He pushed that thought away resolutely, suddenly feeling rather low. Spencer was falling apart in his arms, and all he could think of was himself.

Lightly, so as to not make things worse he ran his hand over the messy shock of hair. Fuck, why did he always feel so fucking clueless and incompetent in situations like this? Easy, he supposed, there hadn't been anyone there to ever comfort him, to teach him how it was done...all he had to go by was what he had tried to do to help Richie when they were younger, after he had been assaulted-

He pushed that thought away, making himself focus on the present. Richie had been beyond fixing, even if he hadn't wanted to believe it then; Spencer he might be able to actually help if he just figured out how to.

"Just close your eyes," he said, "Take deep breaths, it'll get better."

Surprisingly, Spencer actually did as he said, his hand fisting in Seth's vest like it was a life line.

Encouraged, Seth decided to try something. "The guy there…what did he look like?"

Spencer was quiet for a moment, probably confused by the question but then he made an effort to answer, "He…was wearing a bowling shirt, green stripes, a little too large…and long pants, beige with a black belt…with a cell phone on it….he was tan, black hair…brown eyes…a…an earring in his left ear…"

His breathing got more regular as he recounted, little by little, so Seth had him talk about the interior of the gas station and then recount the kinds of sandwiches there had been on display.

"…and I wasn't sure if I even eat meat, and it was so frustrating, so I bought one with egg salad and one with turkey, cause it's at least somewhat healthy, less cholesterol, iron for blood…"

By the time he was through all seven types of sandwiches and his motivation for not buying them and all of his other chaotic thoughts at the time, the worst of the shaking had stopped and Spencer was breathing calmer again, sufficiently distracted.

Seth smiled slightly, glad his method had worked. "Ham for me next time. I'm not really a health nut."

Spencer let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh, close enough at least. It was a good sound, despite it all. Most of the tension had left his body but some remained like it was becoming a permant part of him; Seth could feel it with the way he was leaning against him, curled into him in a way that made it obvious how much he craved safety, shelter.

Seth still couldn't believe that even as messed up as Spencer was he would ever choose to come to him for that –but he wasn't about to argue.

For a long moment neither of them said anything, then Spencer's hand flexed, tugging slightly at his vest.

"Thank you," he murmured, so quietly that Seth almost missed it.

Another moment, then Spencer sat up, leaning back against the door and pulling his knees up to his chest. He bit his lip as he stared at this hands, calmer now but clearly still troubled. When he looked up at Seth his expression was almost piteous.

"I…I don't know what's happening…I don't even know what triggered it really. I thought I was better, but now I don't know….what if it never…if I never…what am I supposed to do?"

His eyes were shining in that desperate way that Seth was quickly coming to hate, causing a sting in his chest. His fault...

"It will get better," he said lamely.

xxx

Better...

Spencer swallowed hard, fighting to keep himself from crying. God, knew he'd done enough of that yesterday. It wasn't easy though. He just felt so lost, so unstable, so scared and it wasn't going away. He looked at Seth, trying to focus on the man's presence in front of him instead of his own dismaying thoughts.

It was hard to tell whether actually Seth believed what he was saying or not. Either way, Spencer wanted nothing more right then than to crawl back into the circle of his arms, to have something steady and reliable, to be told he'd be alright…

He didn't though. Of course not. As much as part of him might want to...

His eyes fell on the gun that was still lying next to Seth on the floor. He closed his eyes, painfully reminded of what he would like to not think about ever, because it was tainting the only source of comfort he had right now.

God, he just wanted to be able to relax, to feel safe...

Ask him then, there it was again, that nagging voice in the back of his skull, a little softer this time, There is no way around it, even if youre scard of the answer, even if you'd rather not know. You can't take another step in any direction unless you're sure-

He took a deep breath, trying to gather what was left of his courage. Just ask. 'Seth, when you said you weren't 'good', what did you mean?'

He opened his mouth...but nothing came out. He couldn't, couldn't make himself ask that directly, too afraid of the answer. Seth was looking at him expectantly now though, obviously having noticed his conflict. He had to ask something.

"Seth…how do you know Carlos?"

It wasn't that direct, but there was no doubt in Seth's expression that he knew where the question was coming from, or where this was going. His expression darkened slightly and he sat in silence for a long moment; Spencer hugged his knees more tightly, nervously worrying his lower lip.

"We did time together."

Spencer couldn't help but flinch at that answer, something that obviously wasn't lost on Seth judging by the look in his eyes.

"You were in prison?" he asked tonelessly, feeling his heart slamming against his rib cage. He wasn't that surprised probably, he'd expected to hear something of the like, but still...hearing it confirmed was like having your doctor tell you that yes, those stomach pains were indeed cancer.

"Yeah. Armed robbery."

Seth wasn't looking at him anymore, a strained expression on his face as he stared at the wall. It was obvious he didn't want to tell him this...which unfortunately made it much more believable. Armed robbery...

"Oh."

Spencer wasn't sure, but he thought he felt sort of...relieved? Robbery, that was bad, it explained the gun and the bad people in a way he wished it wouldn't, it told him Seth was a criminal...but robbery...well, at least it wasn't murder or something like that.

He knew that that reaction was beyond inappropriate but he couldn't help it. He had already expected to hear something bad. It not being the worst he could have heard was a relief even if it was crazy.

"Did..did I know?" he asked after a moment, voice rough. Even if it wasn't as bad as he might have imagined it in his mind, it was still bad, and unlawful, and if he was involved with Seth then-

"Yeah."

Spencer's stomach clenched.

Seth was looking at him now, an unfathomable expression on his face. He was probably confused by his reaction as well. Spencer didn't know why he was so calm either...maybe because there was no point in flipping out now. It was what it was anyway. All he could do now was to try and deal with it.

The question was if he could.

"What-" he started but then cut himself off, unable to ask what he'd wanted to, "I mean did I-"

"No!" Seth caught on to his train of thought immediately, shaking his head harshly, "God no. That was long before…No. You would have never hurt anyone."

"But-" How did he fit then, how did they fit if he wasn't-?

"I didn't do it because I thought it was fun," Seth said suddenly, leaning forward abruptly and interrupting his thoughts. His tone was resembling his expression now, a mix of anger, pain and regret. Spencer couldn't help but tense at his harsh tone, staring at him wide eyed; the last thing he wanted was for Seth to get upset.

"I didn't do, didn't live the way I did because I liked it-" he broke off, shaking his head in frustration.

Spencer watched him with tense worry. What Seth was saying wasn't an answer to his question...or maybe it was in a broader sense. It sounded more like he was telling him about his past...Spencer stayed silent, partly because he didn't dare interrupt, but also because a part of him wanted to know what he was about to find out. To understand Seth better. After all, that might help him, too. So he tried to focus on the pain he saw reflected in the man's eyes instead of the underlying anger. The pain was getting more and more which made that relatively easy.

"It's a shitty excuse," Seth scoffed, "but that's all there is. After my brother and I ran from foster care nobody would help us, I couldn't keep a job with how he was. We had to get by…he was always…unstable. So I became hard, strong, to protect us from people that...I didn't...I didn't mean to become like them, but once I was, it was still better than being weak. I did what I thought I had to, to get us through…"

His gaze was so intense now that it made Spencer shiver; he sat breathless, watching as those dark eyes went from hurt and pained to something...softer? Warmer?

"And then I met you, and you were so different from everybody I knew, so bright and good and pure…I knew I couldn't- but I dragged you down with me into my mess anyway, put you in danger…and even then you still…you tried to convince me I was better…you wanted to help." Seth laughed mirthlessly, shaking his head. He looked at Spencer and the smile fell from his lips as quickly as it had come, replaced by pain again. "You should've run the other way but you didn't. And look where it got you."

Spencer stared ar the older man wordlessly, his brain busy trying to process everything he'd just learned. He ended up feeling a mixture of unease, uncertainty and pity.

Even if he didn't understand everything, out of context as it was...at least this meant he wasn't a criminal too and Seth...Seth seemed to have been pushed into a questionable lifestyle by bad circumstances.

Had he known this? It sounded like it. Well, if he had, he could imagine that he had done what Seth was telling him about, that he'd tried to help...if it wasn't Seth's fault...

"You didn't mean for it to happen," he said, rather helplessly and even as he did the words sounded familiar on his tongue.

Seth scoffed again, his jaw clenching, "No, but that doesn't make it any better."

Specner bit his lip, torn. He really wanted to ask so much more. About Seth's past...about his brother and what he meant by unstable...about Seth's description of him...but right now there was only one important thing, one he couldn't lose sight of.

"Seth…" he forced out, his nails digging into his knees through the fabric of his pants, "What you...did, how you lived…are you going to keep doing that? With…people like Carlos?"

Seth was queit for a long moment before he answered, "No, I'm done with fuckers like him, with all of that shit. I lost my last family to that, I'm not going to go looking for any more trouble. Don't need to be either. I don't have Richie to look out for anymore and I got some money. I'll just lay low in Mexico, calm down after everything."

Spencer nodded, relieved. Briefly.

'Okay fine, it won't be dangerous where he is then...at least he won't go looking for danger...is that what you needed to hear? Didn't you hear him...trouble, prison, violence...you can't stay here! No matter what he's promising, how stupid are you?' The voice sounded taunting now.

Spencer let himself feel the wooden door in his back and tried to imagine walking out of here now, alone. The thought was terrifiying. More terrifiyng than vague stories about difficult childhoods and prison sentences. He didn't think he could handle facing another one of those episodes, flashbacks, panicattacks without someone there to pull him back, didnt think he'd be able to sleep...

His eyes fell onto his knees and he couldn't manage to look up again as he whispered, "I…I don't know what to do…I'm...scared and...I don't think I can just go back, alone…"

It took so much to just say thsoe words, to even suggest...

He took a deep breath, waiting to see if Seth would say something, if he'd pick up on what he was saying, so he wouldn't be forced to actually say it, but the man was utterly silent and he still didn't dare look up.

"With you…I feel safer with you…but I'm scared of….scared that…"

He jumped, startled when suddenly Seth's hand was under his chin, tilting his face up. Spencer gulped, feeling utterly small and lost as he looked into the older man's eyes, his heart hammering in his chest. Seth's eyes were still burning with intensity, but instead of pain and regret had come something else...an expression so intense, so strong that it took his breath away.

"Stay then," Seth said, the words breaking out like something he'd tried to hold back for a long time, "Stay with me...till you remember. It'll be okay. No more danger, no more fucked up shit, I promise. Just you and me."

Spencer stared into those black eyes helplessly, rendered speech and motionless. He should've pulled away, should've shaken his head and told Seth that he couldn't just do that. He did neither. Seth's fingers were warm and comforting on his face, and the expression in his eyes -while certainly disconcerting because of what it hinted at- was so raw, so determined, so needful...

Whatever was truth or lie, those emotions he saw were real, he instinctively knew. Seth wanted him to stay, and he was offering his help, his protection his company, all things that might just be what Specner needed...

It was almost frighteningly easy right then to take the leap, to let his needs overshadow all thoughts of prison and broken bones and guns. He was broken and lost and pathetic and quite possibly insane with how he was acting right now, he knew that; he didn't care. All he wanted...

"Promise I'll be safe with you?"

Seth looked down on him in utter silence for a long moment, his eyes pools of impenetrable blackness.

"I promise," he finally said, brushing his thumb over Spencer's cheek as if to cement the words, give them the right connotation.

And that was the first real lie Seth Gecko told Spencer Reid. The beginning of their story.

xxx

Months later, looking back on that day, he knows perfectly well that if there ever was a real opportunity for him to walk away, that was it. 

Back when Seth was still uncertain about how far he'd be willing to go to keep him, distracted by their trauma and losses. Back when there was nothing but the premonition of possible attachment holding him there, when he wasn't yet helplessly dependant on what would inevitably lead to his destruction.

He didn't see it then, of course not, didn't understand. 

The urge to run was always there, on that first day as it is now. It may have grown weaker, over months and months of nightmares and beautiful lies, but it never fully left, like a nagging voice at the back of his skull, a constant reminder that he isn't and that he never was okay. 

He learned to ignore it, out of sheer necessity. Just wanting to stop feeling afraid, he never spent much time trying to analyze the feeling, just pushed it away with all of his strength.

Readily misinterpreted it, accounted it to that dreadful night in the bar that he couldn't remember, the trauma suffered that they never truly talked about after those first few days.

Lived through the terrifying nightmares shaking him up almost every night, relying on Seth's strong arms instead of psychotherapy to glue over everything that was broken. 

With no idea what he was running from, and not knowing where to run to, he simply stayed, waiting for things to miraculously resolve themselves. 

Now that they have, he almost feels worse than on that first night. 

He can't think, can't sleep, can't stop shaking, can't breathe. And again, he can't run even if this time he is sure that he would do it instantly given the chance.

xxx

"Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards."  
-Soren Kierkegaard

xxx

End of Part One.


	13. Chapter 13

Part 2

Preface

xxx

"Come on, let's go!" Eddie urged the group of men in front of him to fall into action, "We're all fucking dead if we don't get this mess sorted out! The cops are on our asses; we can't hide out in here forever, we need to move the cars from in front of the building!"

"But-"

"Fucking what? Joe's gonna kill us if he finds us here just waiting it out like sitting ducks! We need to regroup, we need a plan! But first we need to move the fucking cars before he gets here, so move!"

Furious, Eddie stormed towards the door, everybody else following, "Blonde, you watch them until we're back."

Reid flinched as the metal door to the warehouse fell shut behind the last man, leaving behind a tense silence that was filled only by ragged, pained breaths and the stark, cruel contrast of humming.

The man making the latter sound was sitting atop the roof of an old car that had been covered with tarp, looking down at him with an amused, calculating expression as he smoked a cigarette.

Reid couldn't suppress a shiver as he stared back, the feeling of dread perpetuating itself in his stomach by now. If he'd felt terrified and trapped with the whole group of upset criminals here, spilling blood like it was soda, it was nothing compared to how he felt now that he'd been left alone with that man.

Mr. Blonde, they called him for some reason. Tall, dark, homicidal. A glint in his eye that would have put the late Richard Gecko to shame. The worst of them all, shunned even among a group of thieves and murderers, because he wasn't controllable, because he was a mass murdering psycho. Reid could still see the drying blood on his clothes from the three people he'd shot dead not an hour ago, next to the blood that had been spilled just minutes ago when he'd been busy beating on-

Reid's eyes flickered to the motionless figure to his left, tied to a chair and beaten bloody and unconscious.

The sight turned his stomach, making him sick, and he had to look away.

He hadn't been able to stop them, forced to stay inactive, all the while terrified that they would kill him in their brutality.

He blinked forcefully, trying to swallow his panic. How had it come to this? It wasn't supposed to end this way! He had promised-

The man, Mr. Blonde caught his look and grinned, flicking his cigarette aside. Then he jumped off the car and walked towards him slowly, taking off his jacket and revealing his sidearm in the process.

"Alone at last."

Reid felt his heart hammering painfully against his ribcage as the man came uncomfortably close, within reaching distance. He forced himself not to try to back up, knowing it would be of no use other than showing his weakness even more. He was hurt and unarmed; he wouldn't be able to get around this man to the door.

Plus, he couldn't just leave-

Still, he was so, so afraid. Terrified to the core. He just knew, knew that this was a horrible, horrible turn of events.

God, someone, please come back…anyone, anything is better than he…

How could they just have left, after seeing how unstable his man was, how easily killing and maiming came to him? The answer was, they probably just didn't care. Not about him anyway. He was of no use to them anymore now.

A chuckle, much too close to his ear. Blonde had stopped right inf ront of him.

Reid suppressed another flinch, stared at the stains on the man's shirt, if only so he wouldn't have to look into his eyes. Over his rushing pulse in his ears, he could barely hear the man's voice.

"I don't think our friends will be coming back very soon," Blonde mused, that sick smile still in his voice, "They'll be pretty busy trying to fix that mess we've maneuvered ourselves into. Hm. Don't you figure they shoulda stayed and kept trying to make him talk instead?"

He leisurely stepped past Reid, towards the chair, towards him-

Reid spun around, breaking his enforced silence before he could think better of it, fear winning over reason. "He's not going to tell you anything if he hasn't so far! Don't-"

Blonde halted and turned back around, smirking cruelly, "Don't need to torture him anymore, you think? Hmm, I'm not sure. We were on such a roll before Eddie boy interrupted our fun…"

Reid shook, horrified. He couldn't let that happen, couldn't let him get hurt any further…he would die!

"Look," he tried to sound convincing, not like he was begging, "even your boss said there was no set up. It was all just a missunderst-"

He broke off midsentence when the man suddenly grabbed his jaw, squeezing the bone painfully as he got into his face.

"A lotta people are dead because of that misunderstanding," he said darkly, "And a lot more will soon wish they were."

Reid stared up at Blonde, frozen, not even daring to breathe. The criminal took in his expression for a long moment, the gleam in his eyes speaking of nothing good.

"Look, kid," he finally said, deceptively soft, "I'm not gonna bullshit you, okay? I don't care about any traitors or information or vengeance, that's Joe's problem now. I don't need to torture anyone for information…but I'll do it anyway. Because I'm bored and it's amusing."

He pulled something out of his pocket, holding it up for Reid to see: A knife, razor sharp and glinting in the light from above. There was no mistaking the glee in his eyes as the color washed out of Reid's cheeks and he trembled, unable to hide the reaction any longer.

"No-" He tried to pull away, panicking, but the man's grip on his was like iron.

"What, don't wanna go first? You sure now? If I get done with you before our buddy over there wakes up I might even make it quick-" he looked into Reid's wide eyes and laughed, "Nah, scratch that. I bet you scream real nicely…wouldn't wanna miss a minute of it."

In a flash, he brought the sharp side of the knife to Reid's neck, pressing in until the young man winced. Before Reid could pull away, he quickly released the hold on his face only to grab his neck instead, holding him still with force. He smiled down at the younger man as he watched Reid's breath quicken in a useless attempt to evade the deadly blade.

"I figure I shouldn't start with your face," he mused to himself, thoughtfully dragging the blade over a pale collar bone, "Wouldn't wanna piss on the wrong tree, eh? Not that any of the guys are still gonna care much about what happens to either of you after all of this shit."

"Please-"

"Save it," he was cut off, the man shaking his head, unimpressed, "Whatever you think you've got going for you, kid, that don't mean shit to me. To Joe maybe, he likes deals and bargains, and I guess he really wanted Seth on board with this…but Joe ain't gonna wanna see your face now, is he? You can probably be grateful it's me who gets to you first."

Blonde laughed.

"But go ahead. Scream if you want to. Maybe if you're loud enough he will hear you." he jerked his chin in the direction of the man on the chair, grinning, "Save me the trouble of giving him a rude awakening, you know? Don't reckon he's gonna love hearing you cry and beg as much as I will, but then, that's what you get for messing with the wrong devil, eh?"

The first cut had blood splashing over his already soiled shirt. Reid couldn't suppress the cry of pain that was ripped from his throat, struggling helplessly in the man's grap.

Please, just please, someone...anyone...

Morgan...Seth...

But he knew they wouldn't be able to hear him, or help him now, even if they were to try.

The second cut had his vision darken with black spots.


	14. Chapter 14

That was then, this is now

Part 2

.

The days pass him, nothing but a blur of shades of grey, time creeping torturously slow while he stares at the same dull wall and the same crestfallen faces. They too are starting to blur together; only the most persistent of visitors manage to break through the whirl of chaos that is his mind. 

David Rossi is one of those people. He hates his visits the most -except maybe for Garcia and JJ's teary appearances- hates seeing Rossi because the man's presence is a glaring reminder of an absence felt, of the man that should be in his place but is buried far away under red desert sand instead. 

Spencer tries to block him out, if only because it hurts being reminded of Gideon, but somehow David Rossi always manages to get through to him with sheer stoic persistence. He keeps coming back into the small, stuffy room to sit across from him with an expression that Spencer guesses is supposed to be trustworthy, or maybe encouraging. He doesn't care to look closer. It's bad enough he can't always block out the man's voice. 

"Why won't you just tell us what happened? We already know most of what Gecko and Cabot's men did. We just need your testimony."

Spencer doesn't answer, doesn't make eye contact.

"Are you afraid? No one is coming for you here, you know that right?" 

Yes, he knows that perfectly well. 

Still, he hates how Rossi makes it sound likes it's supposed to make everything better, like the simple fact that he is physically separated from them, from him, from the past makes any of it less real. Like it hasn't left permanent marks on him. 

"Just talk to me, son." 

Spencer glares. Not for the first time these past days he feels rising irritation break through the carefully constructed indifference that has a hold of him. He doesn't know what Rossi wants from him, what he is hoping to get from him. There is no one out there for the BAU to catch anymore, not after the raid, and surely there are plenty of witnesses' statements stapled on Rossi's desk already. 

What does he need him for? 

Maybe he wants a confession. An admission of guilt. Maybe he is starting to look past the black eye, past all the bruising and gauze and see the truth. Rossi wasn't part of the old team, he isn't blinded by who Spencer used to be as much as the others. It's very well possible that he sees what they won't. 

Spencer wishes he would just accuse him right out and stop playing these psycho games that they both know all too well for them to work.

"What do you want then if you already have all the answers?" he asks stoically.

Rossi frowns at his tone but remains so collected it's almost infuriating. "What I'm interested in isn't so much the what as the how and why. We know Seth Gecko was contracted by some of his old acquaintances to pull off the diamond heist."

Spencer winces at the mention of Seth's name, cursing himself when a brief shadow flashes over Rossi's face. 

The old man waits for him to answer but when he is once again greeted with silence he sighs.

"But…there are a lot of loose ends, things that just don't add up about how it all ended. So why don't you tell me about that? How was the deal made? How is Gecko even alive? Where has he been all this time?" 

Spencer can hear the implied, 'Where have you been?' clearly. 

So that's what this is really about. Again. They know all about the diamond heist, they probably even have enough witnesses to put what remains of Cabot's team away for good. What they really want is to pin something on Seth. Something other than the robbery. A murder or six, something like that. 

He presses his lips shut tightly.

Rossi is obviously getting frustrated with his continued lack of cooperation but he is not giving up yet. "Why do you think you can't tell me? It's a simple question. What happened that you wound up with the likes of Joe and Eddie Cabot?"

Spencer shrugs, "Karma maybe."

It's silent for a long moment. Maybe Rossi finally sees that he really doesn't want to talk about that, so he relents and looks for a new way in, promptly finding the only subject Spencer wants to address even less.

"Okay. You don't have to talk about Cabot. Why don't we start from the beginning?" he suggests, "What happened on the night that Agent Hotchner, Gideon and Greenaway died? What happened afterwards?"

Spencer stares at his hands, watches them clench and unclench on the table. 

"Dr. Reid," Rossi presses him, "Half the BAU died that night, you are the only survivor. Don't you think their families deserve to know what happened to them?" 

It's probably not supposed to sound like an accusation but Spencer flinches anyway. 

"Why?" he asks bitterly, "Knowing how they died is not going to bring them back." 

"No, but it might provide closure."

He shakes his head, hands clenched so tightly now that his knuckles are turning white, "No. It won't. They are better off not knowing. If I could forget I would."

He really does. He usually is pretty good about blocking out the horrid images of their deaths but it's a little harder here with nothing else to focus on, especially if he is constantly reminded of them.

"I can only imagine what I must have been like for you, seeing them die. It changes a person. We all understand the effects of trauma. Your old team wants nothing more than to support you and help you get better, to return to a normal life now that it's all over. Why won't you let them?"

Something about the pitiful tone in Rossi's voice has anger flaring up in Spencer again and this time he can't quite push it back down. What does he know anyway? He wasn't there, he doesn't have to live with them on his conscience.

"You want to know what happened?" he snaps, "I killed them. Hotch and Elle and Gideon. They are dead and it's my fault. "

He hates the way his voice cracks, even after such a long time, just thinking about what happened, how they came to save him and ended up dead because of his weakness, his stupidity. Living on with that on his conscience is punishment enough one might say, but if Rossi wants to he can lock him up for it, not like he cares anymore.

But of course Rossi doesn't bite, he just continues to be infuriatingly understanding. "I know you blame yourself but it wasn't your fault, Spencer. I'm well informed about what happened with the Gecko brothers, the bank robbery and the hostage situation. They had killed dozens of people before that, they were extremely ruthless and brutal. You never had a real chance. Not then and not after the bar when Seth Gecko abducted you yet again."

And back to Seth, a neat full circle. Rossi really wants him it seems, more than anyone else involved.

"He didn't-" Spencer starts to protest but then breaks off. No point in trying to explain. Rossi won't understand. No one will.

"I'm sure it was easy for him," Rossi says darkly, "Even easier than the first time. You were injured, exhausted, traumatized. He abducted you again and he didn't let you go for four months to follow, and even then you were only rescued because he and Cabot screwed up the diamond heist and were busted." 

He pauses minutely, then, "What I don't understand is why. Why did he keep you alive? He had the money, everybody believed he was dead. What did he need you for?"

Exhausted, Spencer closes his eyes, almost feeling the fleeting whisper of calloused fingers at the base of his skull, the only semblance of warmth in this room. He doesn't want to talk anymore, especially not about Seth. It hurts too much.

"Nothing," he whispers the truth.

"Nothing," Rossi nods, promptly turning his words around, "My point exactly. He was free to go wherever he pleased. The logical thing would have been to just leave you there, maybe even kill you so you wouldn't be able to tell anyone he was still alive. Instead he took you with him."

He looks down at the file on the table; Spencer recognizes Morgan's faded handwriting on the file. "Agent Hotchner called Agent Morgan that night, did you know that? He told him that you were injured…he voiced the suspicion that you had been sexually assaulted as well as physically." 

Spencer's head snaps up, eyes sharp and blazing. 

Rossi's eyes are suddenly just as sharp as he leans forward, "We thought it was only Richard Gecko but that's not the truth at all is it? He raped you, or he watched his brother rape you. Keeping you alive was for his benefit solely, so he could do it again. It was enough to keep you alive, to keep you locked up somewhere and-"

"No!" Spencer finally snaps, unable to take it anymore, "No, he didn't. Didn't rape me. He didn't-… It wasn't like that. He never-"

He breaks off, voice trembling as bad a his hands now, old memories resurfacing, hurting. But Rossi won't let up, suddenly tenacious now that he is getting a reaction out of him.

"He never touched you again your will?" he fires back challengingly, "Or he never kept you prisoner?" 

Spencer just glares, shaking his head. "You don't get it."

Rossi grinds his jaw, his expression strained, "You have multiple doctorates, Reid. Surely you are aware of a condition called Stockholm Syndrome. Maybe, over the course of all those months Gecko has somehow managed to manipulate you into…this. Now, for your benefit and for that of your old team mates, I am trying to be considerate of your dilemma. But I cannot continue seeing you as a victim much longer if you keep defending the culprit. You need to wake up and see what he's done to you! Certainly you don't mean to tell me you wanted to be kept away from your friends and family for months, or to end up on the brink of death in that storage unit? Or that you went willingly with a man who you witnessed brutally murdering your entire team, your friends-"

"He didn't-!

"He's a murderer! He doesn't deserve your protection! He deserves to pay for what he's done!"

They stare at each other across the table, both infuriated now but trying to control their emotions for their own sakes. Spencer regains control first, his anger bleeding away into cold defiance once more.

"I think I'm done talking to you, Agent Rossi." 

With that he leans back and looks away. He doesn't listen to any more questions. 

They will never understand why. And as long as they don't, he sure as hell won't tell them how, no matter how glaring those memories are on his mind these days.

"Don't just run off, for fuck's sake!"

Spencer jumped, his heart missing a beat when a hand came out of nowhere, grabbing his upper arm and pulling him out of immediate sight.

He ended up between two book shelves with Seth frowning down at him, alarm slowly fading from his features but one hand still on his arm. Spencer let out a sigh of relief once he realized it was him, leaning back against the sturdy shelf in his back.

"Sorry, I-"

He closed his eyes and tried to calm his heart, his breathing, tried to focus on reassuring facts, like the fact that there was no one in here, just the two of them in this dimly lit and stuffy book store.

"Sorry, I just, outside…there were so many people-"

He had been fine walking down the lively street of the Mexican village with Seth for almost half an hour. It had been crowded and hot and loud, but he had been alright…until one second he suddenly wasn't. Fear had hit him like a freight train, rendering him unable to breathe, ready to panic right there on the market place in midst of music and laughing children.

It had been five days since he'd woken up with Seth for the first time, and every day since then he'd hoped for his memories to come back or for his general state to improve.

He pressed his eyes shut, blinking away tears of frustration. Every time he thought he was better though, something happened and he ended up right where he'd started.

Seth's hand on his arm moved up to his shoulder, lightly squeezing the muscles there and he relaxed into the touch, an almost Pavlovian response by now.

Seth hadn't left his side for the past six days, not after the mishap at the gas station. Having him close, and being afforded the sense of safety it brought made many things better. Still, back out there it hadn't been enough. He'd barely managed to hurry into this quiet little store to save himself from the noise and the claustrophobia and the rising panic.

"My fault, kid." Seth murmured, thumb still moving against Spencer collar, "I shoulda known it would be too much. We're going back to the motel."

Spencer nodded gratefully but didn't move, the thought of even just walking back out there to get to Seth's car horrifying.

"Just a minute," he asked and Seth let up, giving him the time to calm down first.

Spencer kept his eyes closed, just breathing in and out consciously.

It had been going so well. He'd been fine today, the last of his aches finally gone by now, his bruises fading away, a sunny day ahead of them as they walked out of the motel. He almost hadn't hesitated at all at the idea of going into town, feeling much less anxious and tense than even the day before.

If not for the remaining fact that he still did not have substantially more memories than on the day he'd decided to stay with Seth for a while and that he still woke up at least once very night wrecked with nightmares, he would have said he actually felt good then, maybe even a little enthusiastic.

Maybe it had had to do with finally being able to buy new clothes the day prior, shedding the last remnants of blood and pain. It had been in the fifth town they passed through, the second motel.

Seth hadn't explained to him in detail where they were going or what his reasons were for stopping in certain places and not in others, but then, Spencer hadn't exactly asked too often either. He wouldn't have known where he wanted to go even if asked, not that he was too sure on where exactly they were –he just knew the kind of place he didn't want to go and luckily Seth had safely stayed away from that so far so he didn't complain. He just assumed Seth had a –hopefully safe- friend or a certain city he wanted to go see and seen no harm in coming along for now. After all, if he did remember he'd be able to travel home from any place. For now he just didn't want to be alone, so he stayed with Seth.

With each day passing and nothing bad happening, nothing in Seth's behavior towards him changing for the worse, he had become less and less anxious and more and more glad to have stayed.

Sure there still were some questions unanswered, some things that Seth said that raised even more questions, but it didn't make him worry as much as it had in the beginning anymore. It wasn't about him, them, their situation. Whatever had happened in the past, he didn't need to worry about it. That had been then and Seth had promised it would affect him. Maybe it was stupid to think that way but his exhausted brain was more than willing to.

He had asked about the money used to buy them clothes but not gotten a very specific answer, except for Seth insisting that it was alright for Spencer to pick something to wear from the store they'd found. Desperately wanting to get out of his oversized shirt and bloody jeans he had relented too quickly maybe, but was still glad for the new pair of pants, shirt and sweater he now owned. Seth had somehow managed to find something strikingly similar to his old outfit, still clad mostly in black despite the Mexican heat.

They had still been an odd couple judging by looks they had gotten when being among people so far but Spencer had grown less and less bothered by thoughts like that. Yes, the situation as crazy and maybe he was crazy for just continuing on the way he was but Seth had been nothing short of a blessing for him these past days, helping him get through every day and night, making sure he ate and slept, trying to get him used to normal life again.

It made him care less and less about the oddity of the arrangement, made his doubts fade. It was a great comfort just having someone there, to listen, to talk to, someone who understood and who wouldn't leave him alone with his problems. And Seth had listened -but he'd also talked, about his brother and their life, their early troubles. The topic seemed to pain him So Spencer had tied not to pry too much but it had been enough to understand the man better, to emphasize and form a sort of loose bond.

As the days went on Spencer had started to think less and less in terms of, 'Hopefully I'll remember tomorrow so I can go home`, instead growing to enjoy Seth's company. His compromised state was still troubling of course but by now he'd resigned himself to just waiting it out.

Preferably not here though.

Spencer opened his eyes to look around the little store. There was an older man standing by the cash register looking at them funny. Seth followed his eyes and glared at the man silently, making him quickly look away.

Spencer grimaced, feeling a mix of guilt and relief at Seth's behavior. The man hadn't done anything, but these days, anything was setting him on edge.

"Maybe we should buy a book," he murmured, guilt winning over momentarily.

Seth shrugged, indifferent, "Pick some out then. Spanish TV is starting to get on my nerves anyway."

He walked out from between the bookshelves, further up to the cashier's register, never out of Spencer's sight though.

The young man looked after him, unmoving, for a moment, then he sighed and finally pulled himself together, straightening up. He felt better now, less anxious if not completely. He hurried to find something else to focus his thoughts on, in this case the abundance of books. Going through the book titles around him gave him a feeling of déjà vu, of familiarity, which for once felt sort of nice instead of scary. Maybe he had liked books? Lots of these titles and covers seemed familiar, even the ones that were in Spanish.

Smiling ever so slightly he picked a few books and then hurried to follow Seth back out into the sunshine.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Been a while, sorry, I had to regroup. Updates might be a bit slower from now on but if you review I promise to hurry, deal? :) 

How is it so far? Are the flashbacks giving you enough/too much info? Is there anything else you'd like adressed/answered? What do you think about Reid and Seth's path? Please take a minute, guys. Thanks!


	15. Chapter 15

Spencer sank down on the covers of the motel's double bed exhaustedly. He closed his eyes for a moment, just relishing the comfort that being back here, away from all the chaos and noise, gave him.

The mattress dipped and he could feel Seth settle against the headboard, stretching out his long legs parallel to Spencer's. The motion was familiar by now, the position something they had adopted over the past few days.

They hadn't talked about it really, the boundaries that might have, that should have been there between them blurred by the unusualness of their situation. Technically, Seth was still a confirmed criminal with a suspicious past, a gun and poor impulse control and Spencer was by far not in the shape to be able to deal with any of that appropriately.

He didn't move away.

He never did anymore. He knew the facts but somehow…it just wasn't like that…somehow the facts had stopped worrying him. Maybe because Seth never did anything worrying now. No smashing thing, no yelling, no bursts of anger….nothing that would have made Spencer worry for himself. He even still slept on the couch –technically- just as he had promised on that first night.

Practically of course, Spencer woke up every morning curled into the older man with the faint remnants of nightly terrors still fresh on his mind.

At first it had always given him an extra jolt of shock. Now he was at a point where he was starting to just feel relieved and grateful for the man's presence that somehow kept away the worst of the horrors.

He had no basis to protest really. Logically yes, maybe, but really there just was no denying that he was the one who clung to Seth, who needed his presence –and accepting it by night but denying it by day just seemed ridiculous if not ungrateful.

So he didn't say anything about their dynamics, even if they seemed odd at times, silently accepting that between two people living in the same motel room and car, boundaries were bound to crumble, especially with their past –whatever it was.

Either way, it wasn't like Seth was pushing him or anything, or making him uncomfortable. In fact, the man rarely touched him without being prompted somehow, to an extent where it almost seemed intentional. Spencer could only assume it was for his benefit, that Seth probably felt his tension and uncertainty and was actively holding back.

Sometimes he thought he could tell that it was hard on Seth, that it put a strain on him -not keeping his temper in check but keeping a distance…In little moments when Seth's eyes would flash at something he said or how he moved, when his fingers would twitch…like he wanted to reach out for him.

Spencer always pretended not to notice. He didn't know what else to do.

It left a tension between them of things unspoken and unexpressed, a tension that was almost palpable at times…

He knew it was something he needed to address…among other things, like whatever had been between them before, because that almost certainly had to do with it.

He wanted to ask, if only because he really wanted to know what this was.

The reason he didn't was simply that he was scared.

Not scared the way he had been in the beginning, but of something completely different instead. Scared that he would accelerate something that would happen either way by speaking up, that he would prompt Seth into leaving him even sooner once he realized whatever he was hoping for wasn't happening, that Spencer was just broken and definitely not who he had been, who he wanted.

He knew it was probably stupid, being scared to lose someone he barely even knew, but he couldn't help it. He was just terrified to end up all alone, with no one to understand or care, no one to keep him on the edge of sanity when he thought he was slipping. It was utterly selfish but he didn't want Seth to go, to leave him.

But then, what could he do?

He still wasn't sure what exactly Seth was hoping and expecting from him. The general outlines he could guess at maybe…but if so, that was definitely a topic he didn't feel ready to even graze. Not because he couldn't imagine it, not because technically it wouldn't be-

He shook his head. That wasn't the point. So not the point. He was already in this thing so deep, the last thing he should try for were further complications…

Still, he couldn't help but think things like that. If he just let it go on like this, how long would it be before Seth tired of this…before…?

"Feeling better yet?"

Spencer blinked at the sudden sound of Seth's voice, then again at the tone of it. The man didn't sound like he was asking, more like he was sure of the contrary. As usual.

Spencer opened his eyes, relaxing his hold on the blanket and trying to do the same with his facial muscles. He didn't want Seth to worry. He didn't want to become a nuisance, a burden. But he also couldn't be better, as much as he tried…

"'M just tried", he murmured, unable to resist the urge to curl up slightly and draw his legs closer to his body. His knees bumped into Seth's leg, making him even more aware of their proximity.

He looked up at Seth to find the man smiling at him in that indiscernible way he occasionally did and that made Spencer wonder what exactly he was seeing looking at him other than a mess.

His thoughts were interrupted when Seth suddenly lifted one hand, reaching out as though to maybe to touch his face or hair. Spencer felt his breath hitch automatically, eyes widening –and immediately Seth halted, blinked, and then reached for the book lying in-between them instead like he'd never meant to do anything else.

Spencer stared, unmoving, torn. Damnit, things like that…just what he had meant.

It was driving him crazy. They were doing this dance, neither acknowledging it, and Spencer didn't know the steps. He bit his lip, conflicted.

He didn't want Seth to come to any wrong conclusions – he didn't mind his touch. Maybe he should, boundaries and all…but it was warm and comforting and grounding, something he needed, wanted…

It was just as much of a conflict as everything else. He might want it, but he still couldn't help but tense when it happened. It made him nervous every time…probably because he didn't know how to react when Seth did things like this, looked at him in a certain way…or maybe because he didn't even know exactly how he felt… He didn't dare classify it.

He looked up at Seth, wanting to say something, to explain himself somehow- but the words just wouldn't come.

The moment passed. The tension faded.

Spencer settled back down, thinking. Seth had long since looked away, focused on the book like nothing had ever occurred, and then it was just like usual again, them sitting together in comfortable silence, resting.

Spencer blinked slowly, trying to clear his mind.

He needed to think but it didn't come easy. He always felt so tired these days, no matter how often he lied down to sleep. Seth didn't seem to sleep at all. Even now, he looked tired but he was sitting there, flipping through the book he'd picked up with an expression that was lightly interested at best.

"What are you reading?" Spencer asked when he got weary of the silence fuelling the confusing voices in his head, eager for a distraction.

Seth shrugged, making Spencer ponder if the man had even glanced at the title. He didn't say anything though when Seth read the passage he was at out loud for him, taking comfort in the man's voice alone.

"…but comforts we despise; our size of sorrow, proportion'd to our cause, must be as great as that which makes it," Seth scoffed, an eyebrow raised, "Didn't have anything in English, did they?"

Spencer couldn't help but smile. "That's Shakespeare. That particular scene is very powerful."

He had picked two plays on a whim back at the store, somehow sure he liked them. The idea of some of his memory returning widened his smile even further.

Seth looked at him with an eyebrow raised, probably because a smile wasn't something he saw often on him these days. He seemed to be contemplating something. After a moment's consideration he turned his eyes back to the page.

"Seriously though, what does the guy even want?O sun, burn the great sphere thou movest in! Darkling stand the varying shore o' the world. O Antony, Antony -who the hell is Anthony and what's his problem?"

Spencer chuckled, the tension he felt vanishing. Seth's expression now was almost funny.

"He is Cleopatra's lover and he is dying," he explained, "She is calling upon the sun to burn the world because of it. Keep reading, it'll make sense."

Seth frowned. "…shall I abide in this dull world, which in thy absence is no better than a sty?"

"See?" His interest peeked, Spencer propped himself up on his elbow to trace the line Seth had just read with his finger, more and more distracted from his earlier thoughts, "She loves him so much that he has become the sole center of her world. And if he perishes, there is no reason for her to stay alive either. The world is grey without him, her life without purpose."

For some reason talking about the play made him feel almost warm inside, calming him in a more profound way than being out of the sun could have. He felt like he was within reach of something, a piece of himself, and getting it back felt like getting stronger.

A little late, he realized Seth's lack of response, and looked up to find him gazing down at him, that unfathomable expression back in his dark eyes.

Spencer's chest constricted. He couldn't be sure but he thought it looked like pain. For a moment he was at a loss but then- Oh.

What had he been thinking-?

"I'm sorry," he mumbled hastily, casting his eyes down.

"Huh?" Seth sounded confused.

"Your brother." Those lines had obviously reminded Seth of him and he'd been too insensitive to see the connection. "You miss him a lot, don't you?"

Seth expression shifted once again at that, still unidentifiable but definitely darkening with emotion.

"What's done is done," he finally said, turning his eyes away, "No use crying over spilled milk."

It almost sounded authentically indifferent but Spencer could see the tense line of the older man's jaw, the way he was holing himself, clearly upset. His chest constricted from guilt.

"You can talk about him if you want to, I could-"

"No," Seth said abruptly, maybe a little too harshly, before catching Spencer's startled expression and sighing, softening his tone, "I don't want to think about him."

Spencer looked up at him, thinking about him not sleeping, not resting, about the shadows in his eyes that hinted at his inner conflict. Seth was doing what he could to help him, and he was always so tough that it was easy to forget that he too had lived through a nightmare, that he'd lost a loved one….

"Maybe you need to-"

"No." This time Seth's tone made him actually flinch, and it didn't soften. Spencer felt his stomach clench. One step too far.

"This isn't some fancy story, this is reality," Seth snapped before dropping the book onto the mattress between them, and getting off the bed.

He walked over to the desk by the door, halting there for a moment without turning around. Spencer had sat up, startled, and watched him with a sudden feeling of heaviness pressing on his chest that felt awfully like fear, his heart beating fast and loud. No…

He wanted to say something, to take back what he'd said…to make the nice comfortable atmosphere reappear in the room, "Seth, I-"

Seth shook his head, hand reaching for the half empty pack of cigarettes on the desk and picking it up. He just stared at his hands for a long moment it seemed, both of them silent and tense.

"There was a point…" Seth eventually said quietly, still not turning around, still sounding angry underneath his obvious hurt, "…when I might have wanted to see the world burn without him in it."

Spencer stared, his breath held.

Seth straightened up, his fingers clenching around the cigarettes and Spencer could practically hear his teeth grind. "But I know I made the right decision. He's better off dead and I'm better off without him. Given the choice, I would do it all over again. All of it."

And with that he was out the door, leaving Spencer in the silence.

Spencer stared after him for a long moment after the door clapped, trying to process what had just happened. God, just how stupid-? And now Seth was gone...He immediately felt scared, scared to be alone, scared that Seth would not come back although he hadn't even taken his jacket or keys….

He wanted to get up and run after him –he didn't, because Seth had left because of something he'd said…he wouldn't want to see him…

The thought made him feel more miserable, more panicked and breathless than could have been reasonable but he couldn't help it. He ended up curling up on the bed, hugging himself as he stared at the door, his body unmoving while his mind raced and raced….

Alone.

And it was his own fault.

Why had he said what he did…? Why- But Seth would have gotten fed up with him eventually anyway, wouldn't he? It had only been a matter of time.

But then…what had he meant just before he'd left?

I would do it all over again. Somehow he was sure Seth had been talking about his brother, the choice, but also about this, about them. All over again…

It didn't make any sense. He would have done everything the same knowing it would end like this? Why? Who on earth would-? Had he...for him...? Did that mean he would come back for sure? Better yet that he wouldn't leave for sure? How could he-

Spencer didn't know he'd somehow fallen asleep until the nightmare shook him up with a gasp. He jolted, body locked in fear, and tensing even more when he felt a touch to his arm…just there where he had held him down just seconds ago…

"No…" he whimpered, shaking.

It was dark all around, the stuffy air in the room suffocating him…monsters just waiting, knowing he was alone….

He curled in on himself, desperate to protect himself somehow, but the hand on his arm tightened and then strong arms pulled him into a warm embrace from behind.

He gasped, breath rushing into him, making him dizzy. Utter relief flooded him. Seth.

Seth, he told himself. It could be no one else…he recognized his touch, his smell…he'd come back…

He drew in another shaky breath, trembling…eternally grateful to feel Seth's arms around him - but also terrified to turn around and look at him for some reason. Seconds passed and he just lied there, waiting for Seth to say anything - but he didn't, maybe also waiting, maybe not finding the words for what he needed to say. Spencer felt his throat constricting at the thought…he would go…fed up with him, angry at him… 

It was one blow too many suddenly, and when Seth pulled away, Spencer's last reason and reservations crumbled, crushed by need, by fear and desperation. Before he knew what he was doing he'd grabbed onto Seth's arm, holding it in place as tightly as he dared, all boundaries forgotten along with his pride.

"Don't-" he nearly choked on the words, "Don't leave-"

He couldn't speak on, his voice gone. He heard Seth breathing out behind him –stock still for a moment before tightening his embrace and pulling him closer. Warm breath grazed the hairs on the back of his neck and Spencer closed his eyes, tears welling up behind his lids.

"I won't." Words spoken so quietly and darkly that he couldn't tell whether they sounded promising or threatening, soft or angry, "Nothing you can say or do will ever make me leave you."

"He made you feel safe, is that it?" 

Spencer opens his eyes, finding himself back in the interrogation room instead of a warm comfortable bed. 

Jennifer Jareau is sitting across from him now, a pained expression on her beautiful face. He has no idea how long she's been there, or when Rossi left. 

He wishes for Rossi to come back, just so he won't have to look into JJ's hurt and confused eyes that are practically begging with him, to let her in, let her understand. It's cruel sending her in. he told them he didn't want her here but it seems they are out of strategies to get him to talk. 

"Spence, please. No one is blaming you. After what happened it's a miracle you came out with any kind of mental stability. He manipulated you, made you think you needed him, wanted him, because you were scared and alone. But you aren't, Spence, not now. We are all here for you, we want you back in our lives, You're our family."

He doesn't look up, can't make himself, because the truth is he is alone. JJ and the other don't know it yet but they won't want him, not once they really think about everything, about what he's done. He is the reason half of their family is dead. How could they ever want him back? How could he ever deserve to go back?

No. He doesn't belong with them anymore. 

He belongs with Seth. 

He wants to laugh at that. All they want to hear from him, is how scared he is of Seth Gecko, how much he hates him, despises him for everything he's done, everything he's taken from him. 

He could tell them just that, it wouldn't even be a full lie. He despises Seth as much as he craves him, an endless battle between mind and matter that leaves him internally torn. 

He doesn't say anything though, because he doesn't want to hurt JJ even further with the truth, and because he knows she too won't understand, won't be able to see the truth. 

The truth. 

The truth is Seth is the one who dug his grave, who bought the shovel and dragged him into the woods to make him watch as he made the hole. 

But the truth is also that even if Seth pushed him to the edge, in the end it was Spencer who jumped. 

There simply is no coming back for him.


	16. Chapter 16

Seth didn't even try to sleep after Spencer had eventually drifted off. He just lied there in the dark, holding the young man's lithe body against him closely and thinking.

He had hardly slept at all since the bar, since Richie - partly because he really didn't want to see his brother die again as he was sure he would, but also because no matter how many days passed without any occurrences, and no matter how often he told himself that everything was alright now, he just couldn't seem to relax, to get a reign on his paranoia.

It wasn't just the vampires and the array of other possible threats that were causing it though –in the end he knew he'd be able to deal with anything, any danger, any attack.

What kept him up was Spencer.

More specifically, it was fear. Fear that he would close his eyes one second and the kid would be gone, fear that he would run, or get taken…fear that something would happen to him while he wasn't paying attention…fear that he would wake up to find nothing that had happened in the past five days had been real, that it had all just been an illusion.

The thought of that scared him more than could have ever been sensible or sane…but he couldn't help it. While the aftermath of what had happened in the bar had left Spencer messed up enough to cling to him this desperately, it had left Seth in much the same way. He knew that wasn't entirely true of course –he'd been unhealthily obsessed with the kid even before everything – but the end result was the same. They were dependant on each other now, neither able to part with the other.

Until he remembers….

Seth's arms tightened around Spencer who sighed in his sleep but didn't wake.

No, he didn't want to go to sleep, not while he could be awake and have…this. Spencer with him, in his arms…wanting him there, needing him, curling into him… Carefully, he traced the sleeping face in front of him with his knuckles, taking in the beautiful features that were relaxed for once, watching over Spencer's sleep…

He didn't think he would ever get over seeing him like this.

Now that he could be honest with himself he knew that he had been hopelessly infatuated with everything that Spencer was from the beginning, the way he looked, talked, thought, cared, smiled, blushed, sighed…it had all burned itself into his core, so much even that no matter how infuriated he had been at times by Spencer's actions or words, it had never been enough to erase that.

That feeling, that spark inside him that he hadn't even thought existed anymore up until that point. That one focal point in the chaos that was his life, his mind, that made him see things clearly for once, that let him see what he was and what he could be.

If not for Spencer he never would have seen it, never would have changed anything. He would have just kept on going down his destructive bloody path until he died.

Or until Richie died.

His little brother, the only one who needed him. Had he died at any other point, there would have been no telling what Seth would have done.

Now though, it was all different because he had Spencer. Spencer who needed him, whom he could look at and very briefly not feel his whole existence be swallowed up by despair and darkness.

Of course their relationship was still a constant struggle –how could it not with how they both were- but everything had shifted, changed. Spencer was growing less and less tense and distressed with every day, and even if the nights were bad, he could help him through them. That made it easy for Seth to justify what he was doing, to not stop himself.

Spencer was getting healthy, and he was starting to organize his days more, slowly getting back a life, hell, today he had seemed almost happy reading that play, it had seemed so easy just being together and talking, almost like nothing was missing, like everything was alright…

Of course he'd messed it all up, like usual. He simply hadn't been able to stop himself.

Not out of anger as he knew Spencer had suspected, at least not anger at the kid for mentioning Richie…anger at the situation maybe. Anger at himself, for not being reminded of his brother at that play scene but of them instead, anger for not being able to stop thinking about how Spencer's smile was audible in his voice, how he was so close that he could lean down and kiss it from his lips, taste it…anger that he couldn't seem to stop himself from not only entertaining these dangerous thoughts but also from acting upon them, touching the young man, getting too close…

He knew he was playing with fire, that if he pushed it too far he would destroy everything just like he technically already had last time. That Spencer would wake up and realize he was a criminal, a monster just like Richie had been.

He blinked harshly, trying to chase thoughts of his brother away. He didn't want to think of Richard. Especially not in connection to Spencer. Or to himself.

He wouldn't let it come to that. He wouldn't be that man. Not this time. This time he would do it right. Or slightly less wrong at least considering the whole amnesia-lying-kidnapping-thing he already had going on.

He would be someone Spencer wanted to stay with.

But for that he really needed a grip on himself. He couldn't keep flipping out like he had earlier, get emotional, get angry, get violent…that was the old him, the part of his persona that had fucked up his entire prior life…

Spencer wouldn't like that person. He would be scared of him. He wouldn't understand that there was a difference between how Seth thought of the world and how he thought of him, that it didn't mean anything if he hurt or killed anyone…not for Spencer.

No.

This was his second chance. He knew he sure as hell didn't deserve one, but here it was and he wasn't about to let it slip through his fingers.

He knew he needed to stop thinking about Richie, needed to finally bury him in his mind as well as in real life. In a way he was almost anxious to. The part that ached for his little brother was overshadowed by the –shameful but honest- relief that the monster he'd turned into was gone, that it wouldn't be able to destroy either of them any further.

Yes, he was hurting. But what he'd told Spencer earlier was true. He'd done the right thing for once by killing Richie and he would do it again.

But Spencer didn't need to hear that story, just like he didn't need to hear so much else…he needed light, and soft pillows, and summer and books and music. To feel safe. To rest.

Yes, Seth was exhausted. But at least he didn't crash on any available surface like the kid did these days. Spencer was so much worse off than him, so much more affected by this.

So Seth was watching over the both of them, determined to get them through.

The night was his time to relax, to unfold, when he could just sit there, in control of his own tiny micro cosmos, with the door locked, his gun close and Spencer sleeping peacefully against his side. When he didn't have to make a conscious effort to control his every thought and word and motion, when he could be close to Spencer without it causing even more uncomfortable tension and need for explanations.

It was hard being around Spencer practically all the time, the need to touch him and pull him close and let him know what exactly he was to him maddening –it was just easier to practice restraint while the kid slept.

He had almost lost it today, nerves worn thin by the continued pressure. The guilt of not properly mourning his brother along with the strain of feeling this strongly for someone who needed to remain clueless had just pushed him one step too far tonight. All he had been able to do was leave and cool down outside before he did something he would soon regret.

The thought scared him…for Spencer and for himself.

He didn't know how long he would be able to keep this up. Last time he had tried to restrain himself and failed miserably. And where had it gotten them? He looked down at the result of his actions, the pale face only now free of worry lines and tension…

God, he would make it all worse…he didn't how it could get worse but he knew he would. He wanted the best for them but he just wasn't strong enough. Not strong enough to stop the inevitable, not strong enough to let go, not strong enough to hold on in the right way.

"I'm really trying," he murmured, giving into the urge to press his face into Spencer's hair and breathe in, "but you're making it so goddamn hard."

xxx

Seth was already awake when Spencer stirred the next morning, lying still, unwilling to move away or up. He felt the young man move in his arms, regretfully noting the exact moment he came to awareness by the tensing of his muscles.

He swallowed down any unbidden emotion, steeling himself for another day as he waited for Spencer to move away from him as he always did in the mornings.

This time though he was surprised when instead, Spencer's hand found his arm, his long fingers curling around it almost hesitantly, like he wasn't sure what he was doing. There was something in the air between them, unspoken, unasked…

He opened his mouth to say something, felt Spencer do the same…

In the end, they both remained silent, both hoping the other would just get what they wanted to say. I'm sorry. Thank you. Please stay. I need you. I can't explain it to you but please understand.

Seth didn't say anything, just hugged Spencer tighter, hoping it would make his point clear. He wasn't going anywhere.

Briefly, he wondered if Spencer wanted to say just how ridiculous this whole situation was, but hadn't, afraid to upset him.

He frowned. He didn't want that, to once again build their relationship on a power imbalance. But how was he supposed to achieve that? Spencer was dependant on him now, and he would never grasp how much more dependant Seth was on him until he knew the whole truth.

Cul-de-sac, that.

Before he could come up with anything to say though, Spencer tensed once again, his free hand twisting the bed sheet.

"I had a dream," he told him quietly, in a tone that made Seth's heart sink.

He said nothing, waiting.

Spencer's voice remained quiet, subdued, "I think it was because of the play…I dreamed about my mother, how she used to read to me when I was younger…I would sit on her bed and she would read me. Proust, Chaucer, Irving and Emerson. She said how proud she was of me, how much she loved me…"

His fingers twisted in the sheets, proof of his emotional state. Seth held his breath, already feeling the first traces of dread at what he feared Spencer would say next. He wanted his mother…he would want to leave…

"I know she probably won't remember…but I want to write to her, tell her I'm okay, that she needn't worry…."

It was all Seth could do to not show his relief physically.

"Yeah, 'course," he swallowed, fighting to keep his voice calm.

He could practically feel the tension fall off Spencer as well then. Like he had actually been worried he wouldn't be able to write his mother, like he thought Seth might forbid him, or get angry…

It occurred to him then that this could be a small step in showing Spencer he was in control still…it wasn't any real proof of course, but Spencer was relieved so quickly, so eagerly these days…

It didn't feel quite right, but he didn't say anything else, just going with it. If Spencer was content it was worth more than absolute truth. To him at least.

They didn't move for another while after that, for once both relaxed and enjoying the calm and fading tension between them. Seth reveled in feeling Spencer against him for as long as he could…only when he felt the kid getting restless she finally got up, found some paper and he let Spencer spend the morning writing.

Seth stepped outside briefly to get them something to eat, then watched TV on the bed while Spencer sat at the desk and scribbled down his lines. It seemed to be a slow process, like he didn't quite know what to write her.

"What are you writing her?" he finally asked when Spencer hadn't moved the pen in a couple of minutes.

Spencer looked over at him, shrugging, "…just what happened…and what I do remember. That I'm with you and that she doesn't need to worry about me. What I'm doing, what I'm reading-"

At the last word he broke off, suddenly seeming uncertain. Seth frowned slightly, knowing what the kid was worried about. Yesterday night had started with talking about that book.

"Are you telling her about Anthony and his hysteric girlfriend?" he asked deliberately relaxed, smirking when Spencer's eyebrow rose at that.

It took a second, but then a small, relieved smile appeared on the younger man's face also. Apparently he had gotten what Seth wanted to say, that he shouldn't worry about upsetting him by talking freely about something he liked.

"Not in those words, but yes," he smiled, "mostly about the other play over there though. She always liked that one better."

"Why?"

"The Scottish Play. One of Shakespeare's most popular. I think she liked how people meet justice in it. You know, every crime is punished accordingly; everybody gets what they deserve."

He trailed off, again looking slightly uncertain but Seth kept his expression deliberately neutrally interested. He wouldn't make the same mistake as yesterday again. "Sounds promising. Can't wait to listen to you dissect it."

In return he got another smile, this one a little wider.

"Just give me a minute. I'm almost done."

Seth just nodded, satisfied. It seemed at least regarding normal conversation he was getting slightly better. Maybe that was a start…

He let Spencer finish the letter, then gave him the address of the sanatorium Richie had been in all those years ago. Though he had never found out for sure about that part of their past –he was sure the old lady wasn't there anymore, if she ever had been.

She wouldn't receive these letters. If she did remember Spencer she would keep thinking her soon was dead, or busy travelling, or whatever they had told her about him by now. Nothing would change other than that Spencer would feel better.

Again, just how wrong could something be if it only prevented further pain on all accounts really?

While Spencer busied himself finding an envelope in the motel room's supplies, Seth focused on reading the other play he'd picked up, not eager to further think about his own actions.

He frowned when he realized this one seemed to be just as sinister and tragic as the first one. It didn't take him long to decide that he didn't want things to end like they had the day before –so he decided to maybe not start by talking about crime and punishment right away.

"So, the Scottish Play, huh?" he finally asked, mildly interested, "that doesn't really narrow it down, does it?"

Spencer sank down on the mattress beside him, resting his head against the headboard before starting to unpack his sandwich.

"It's actually called Macbeth."

When all he got in reply was silence, he looked at Seth incredulously.

"Oh, don't tell me you've never heard of the great theater tradition that one must never speak the name of the Scottish play."

His voice had taken on what could only be described as a very bad imitation of an English accent at the last part –it took Seth a long moment to realize the kid was making a joke.

He scoffed, unbothered by his lack of knowledge when it came to theatre –it was way too great to see Spencer this way, as careless as he'd ever been, not worried about saying the wrong thing anymore, even joking…

"Must've slipped past me," he chuckled.

He doubted he would ever become a fan of Shakespeare but Spencer seemed interested in it, and more importantly rather happy to be able to explain this to him, so Seth indulged him.

Sure enough, more trivia followed. "It's said to be bad luck if actors mention the name Macbeth before the play. There's a curse on it."

"That so?" Seth raised an eyebrow, "Maybe they should put that on the back of the book. Might be good advertising."

He smirked when Spencer pulled a face, like the thought was offensive somehow. He just couldn't help the reaction –this was just making him feeling lighter somehow.

Spencer didn't seem to realize just how much of himself he was gaining back each day –at least Seth assumed that.

In all the time he'd known Spencer he had only ever known him frightened, or angry or reserved or despaired, never at ease in any way, never relaxed enough to really open up and show a characteristic of himself that wasn't necessarily linked to survival.

Seth couldn't begin to describe how much he liked seeing him like this, catching a glimpse of who Spencer might have been before he'd dragged him through hell and back. Of who he might be again. Seeing him open, and smiling and content in his presence…it made him even lovelier, even more desirable than he'd already been. It made Seth want him more, setting him on edge…but it also made him feel more grounded, more complete at the same time. It made him feel…happy.

It was odd. These battling emotions, one of which had never really felt since he'd been a little boy, one he never would have expected to feel again, especially not like this.

But there it was.

"So what's the story then?"

He settled back until he was comfortable, prepared to listen to as much Shakespeare trivia as necessary if only it meant that things would stay as they were right in that moment.

xxx

"Agent Rossi says you won't talk to him anymore."

Emily Prentiss looks at him out of big chocolate eyes, not looking much like an FBI agent at all. Spencer guesses that that is intentional but it doesn't affect him as much as it does with JJ or Garcia. She seems like a nice person, and she must be a good profiler if she's on the team, but he holds no emotional connection to her.

"I couldn't stand to listen to him anymore," he shrugs. 

He can't stand to listen to any of them, but Rossi and his insinuations are the worst. The way he talks about Seth, about what happened, twisting it all, uprooting the bad and shoving it in his face but also soiling the good in the process…

"Because it's not true?" Emily asks carefully, "Because he was wrong about what really happened?"

Spencer looks at her with an expression that he guesses is more exhausted and sad than anything else. He can't seem to find the energy to get angry today.

"You don't have to try and relate to me by pretending to understand," he says, making it clear he sees through her tactic, "I know nothing I say will make you think of him as less guilty."

He think he's sees the flicker of surprise in her eyes at his response but she catches herself quickly, "Why don't you try?" 

Again Spencer shrugs. He doesn't know what she wants to hear. "You were there. You saw how it was between us."

To this day he can't make sense of their meeting in Mexico all those weeks ago. She showed up out of nowhere…he wants to think she was sent by the team but she couldn't have known then, couldn't have been looking for them specifically - because she didn't do anything to save him…Still, in a way meeting her was the beginning of the end. He remembers Seth's tense silence in her presence and her growing mistrust the longer she watched them together, her pointed questions about his situation that he never quite answered…but in the end she left them alone, left.

Maybe that's why she looks sort of guilty now, because she thinks she could have done something to stop this from happening. 

How silly.

"What I saw was that something was wrong. You were very distressed, in very bad shape and you were scared of him. You didn't say so but I could see it in the way you looked at him and me, how you moved and spoke."

The way she describes it makes him think of how they used to lead interviews with victims of domestic violence. Victims.

Spencer closes his eyes. He hates the comparison, not only because it's not true but also because he doesn't want to see himself as a victim of any sort. 

He knows what she means though, how she has come to these conclusions. They met after he had already remembered, after-

"I wasn't scared of him. I was scared for you."

Emily frowns, "Isn't that the same thing?"

He shakes he head. "No. I knew he wouldn't hurt me."

Emily's brows knit in irritation over his behavior as she leans across the table, "Seth Gecko is a violent sociopath. He doesn't feel empathy; he doesn't have a moral code. It is obvious that he cares about nothing and no one but himself. I have no trouble believing he would have killed me had I found him out then. You're a profiler, you must know that. So how can you think you're excluded from that? Especially after…Reid, we have evidence which suggests that he-"

"Well, you're wrong," he cuts her off, glaring. 

He doesn't want to hear any more theories about him being held captive, raped and abused. About how he could have only stayed out of fear of Seth. It's ironic in a way, because he so wishes it had been like that, because then he could just abdicate all responsibility. 

But he can't because that's not what happened, not why he resents Seth…he didn't do that, not even after Spencer remembered…not really. It wasn't like that. 

Yes, he knows what Seth did was wrong. He can't forgive him for lying, for manipulating him, for taking advantage of his amnesia to make him l-

-but he will not sit here and tell them that Seth used his compromised state to physically hurt him. He tells Emily as much.

She sighs, exhausted by his stubbornness. She doesn't give up though.

"So what did he do then?" 

With not much else to go by, Spencer began measuring time in certain intervals.

On day two after the incident, he had been more deeply distraught and lost and terrified than he ever would have thought possible, so much so that all he could think to do was put his life in the hands of a relative stranger and pray it wasn't another mistake.

During day three, he'd still felt like he was on a trip, nothing real except for his chaotic emotional responses to seemingly meaningless things and his terrifying flashbacks. He had been unable to function, to think clearly or formulate a plan, to care for himself. He had let Seth steer him like a doll, had gotten into the car without thinking, letting the man drive off to wherever.

Somewhere at the back of his mind there had always been this little voice telling him that was he was doing was dangerous and destructive, that he ought to protect himself, that this wasn't safe…

He simply hadn't been able to act on it. Anyone could have done anything to him during those days. But no one did. There was no further pain, or fear, or blood –not while he was awake anyway. Seth had kept him close, Seth had kept him safe, taking care of him through days of apathy and nights of screaming terror. He had gotten him through day four and five.

It hadn't been until the morning of day six that Spencer felt like he could actually breathe properly again, like he wasn't just a blink away from the next breakdown. Slowly, he'd rebuilt his mind, his defenses. Seth had been there for that too, trying to help as best as he could without pushing him, a silent support by his side.

By day Nr. 7, the fog had cleared enough, the shock had worn down enough that he had actively started trying to get a semblance of a daily routine, a life. The nightmares had still been there, the latent fear had still been there, the phobias, preventing him from going out among people…but he had started to feel close to okay. To feel comfortable in Seth's presence, to not only trust and rely on him but to actually appreciate his company.

And Seth had been there to readily distract him from his dark thoughts, to build him up again carefully…they had talked, he'd told him about his childhood, about what he knew about Spencer…they had talked about books, ideas…

It had started feeling…welcome. Seth's voice had become his fix point, his arms around him more than an embarrassing necessity at night, his presence and proximity sources of comfort and warmth and a feeling of safety, of belonging.

Somehow, despite everything, Seth had managed to make him forget everything he had been worried about in the beginning, to only see the good in him anymore, to make him feel like everything could be alright if only he trusted the man to fix it for him.

Looking back, he wasn't sure what had come first, certain memory fragments or certain emotions on his part, wasn't sure which had ignited which…

All he knew was that on day 10 he had realized something fundamental.

Maybe it had come to his awareness just then because of his growing confusion about Seth's expectation at their relationship… of what it meant that the man kept pulling him close only to pull away the next second….looked at him in a certain way…

All that had put him on edge more and more, making him insecure and nervous –because he'd felt pressured, afraid that he would lose the safety he had if he disappointed Seth. At least that was how it had started out. But with the days passing and Seth making it clear that he wouldn't push him, that clear line had started to blur.

Truth was, it had probably even started before that his heart would skip for a reason other than anxiety whenever Seth came close enough to touch him, or looked at him in a certain way, or closed his arms around him, breathing into his neck…

Probably.

Deep down he probably always been aware of his attraction to the man.

He just hadn't actively realized it -a little preoccupied with all the trauma and stress they'd had- until a very embarrassing and yet very eye-opening incident on said day.

It started with him waking up alone in bed, to the very acute sensation that his face and neck were wet.

Startled, he blinked awake, a hand coming up to his face to find it actually sticky with warm fluid. He'd opened his eyes to find the hand in front of his face red with blood.

With a gasp, he shot up in bed, heart missing a beat until he realized that he wasn't actually in pain and that the was no one else there.

He sighed.

A nose bleed. Darn dry heat.

Slight annoyance overtook him then, an emotion so mundane, so normal, that it would have made him smile at any other moment. As it was, all he could see was his ruined shirt –one of the two he owned- and the equally ruined bed sheets.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath, pressing two fingers over his nose and scrambling out of bed to hurry into the bathroom.

It wasn't until he was already standing in the bathroom, steam filled and humid, that his brain caught on to the fact that Seth hadn't been in the bedroom with him, hence he had to be in here and- he was currently standing by the sink, wearing nothing but a towel around his hips and a startled expression on his face. He'd obviously just come out of the shower.

"Oh, I- sorry, sorry, I-" Spencer stammered, flushing in embarrassment.

He spun around, ready to hurry out of the room again when Seth caught his arm, pulling him back. Instead of annoyance over being interrupted, his face showed an expression of alarm as he stared down at Spencer, and consequently all the blood.

"What-?"

His eyes instantly darted over Spencer's shoulder to the door, his whole frame tensing. He had already started to pull Spencer away from the door when the young man finally found his words.

"No, it's just my nose…it's fine. Sorry, I wasn't thinking. I'll wait outs-…"

"Stop squirming," Seth had relaxed his stance at his words but didn't let go, instead leaning in to get a closer look at Spencer's face. His free hand came up as though to touch his cheek and Spencer instinctively pulled back, not wanting Seth to come in contact with the blood as well.

Something flashed across Seth's face at that, too quickly to decipher, but not too quickly for Spencer to suddenly get an odd feeling of déjà vu, one of the almost flashbacks he hadn't had in almost two days now.

His nose bleeding, his face wet, Seth leaning over him with a worried expression, carefully touching him…

It was gone before he could really get a grasp on it and before he could even think to ask, Seth suddenly moved away rather abruptly, an oddly strained expression on his features.

Before Spencer could get a good look at it though he was being turned around by the shoulder to face the sink. Seth turned on the water and then moved to look for a wash cloth, "Keep looking down until it stops bleeding."

Spencer did as instructed, still caught up in his inner confusion about what had just happened. It always happened so suddenly, just like this little scene had….he never seemed prepared for anything these days… One second he'd been fine, startled and embarrassed but okay, now for some reason something sour had mixed into that…like a bad after taste and he didn't know if it had come from himself or from Seth.

He blankly stared at the blood dripping into the sink, feeling his chest clench and his stomach turn as he tried futilely to figure himself out. Was it the memory, or the situation in general, or the blood that suddenly had him feeling this…ill?

He grasped the edge of the sink tightly, making distressed sound.

"Close your eyes," Seth's hand came to rest on his neck unasked but reassuring, then the cloth, wet and cold was pressed to his skin instead.

Again, Spencer listened automatically. He closed his eyes and let Seth's voice and touch calm him down. It helped after only a few short moments, focusing on something else, something safe and familiar, instead of the uncertainty and the sight of his own blood…

Was that why Seth had told him to shut his eyes? Because he was worried that the blood would trigger another flashback? He must have…maybe there had been something in the past, something bad, maybe Seth had remembered that earlier and now wanted to protect him from it…

That had to be it. The sudden feeling of gratefulness that overcame him at that was overwhelming. Seth always knew when something was wrong, he understood, he made it go away…

Spencer pressed his eyes closed, simply focusing on breathing and on Seth's hand as he waited, waited to calm down, for the bleeding to stop. Seth didn't let go until both had happened.

Eventually, Spencer moved, splashing water over his face to clean it, then straightened up and turned around. "Sorry," he breathed, then stopped short as they came face to face.

Seth's hand had remained against his neck, pressing the cloth to his skin still. He didn't move back which left them standing chest to chest, Spencer leaning against the sink and staring up at the older man, suddenly becoming acutely aware of how close they were.

His eyes flickered over Seth's naked chest and upper arms –where else to look- and momentarily remained fixated on the prominent tattoo there that was almost right by his face with the way Seth was still holding on to him. He could see it move as the muscle under it flexed, could feel the motion against his skin…

Breathing calmly suddenly seemed harder for some reason as he stared at the beads of water trailing down from the older man's hair and over his neck…

Seth shifted in front of him, his fingers flexing around the nape of Spencer's neck to hold him still as his other hand came up to once again reach for his face, probably make sure he was alright…

Spencer looked up into Seth's face, expecting that same worried, prodding look as before, and his heart skipped a beat when instead he met stormy, black eyes, transfixed on his, intense and sharp.

He gazed back, his body seemingly having forgotten how to move, his pulse rushing in his ears. Getting nervous in Seth's presence wasn't new to him…but this… his heart fluttering in his chest, it wasn't a bad feeling. He stared at the man's rugged features, the stubbles of a beard on his neck and chin, his black eyes, his lips…

He could have sworn he could feel Seth moving closer, the strong fingers in his neck flexing to pull him in. His breath caught …but then Seth suddenly broke their eye contact, loosening his grip and stepping away.

"Keep it there," he said, voice sounding oddly hoarse and Spencer automatically reached up to keep the wet cloth in place.

Then, before he could even register what was happening, Seth had grabbed his clothes and was out of the room, leaving him dazed and confused in the bathroom.

By the end of day ten, Spencer had realized a very important thing.

Of all the things he was afraid of these days, Seth leaving him out of frustration over Spencer not feeling about him the way he should or had was the worst.

But just that, it seemed, wasn't the problem anymore.

Not at all.

xxx

They didn't talk about it.

They went on like nothing had even happened. Spencer couldn't see into Seth's head, couldn't begin to fathom just what the man had been thinking, how much there had actually been between them and how much he'd falsely interpreted into the situation.

So he said nothing, alone with his fear, with his confusion, his uncertainty.

He didn't know what to do but to ignore it all and push the decision further ahead.

He didn't last very long.

xxx

It was on day eleven, promptly after the bathroom incident, that he had a dream. Not the usual, bloody-gruesome-wake-up-screaming-kind of dream. No.

A dream like the flashback he'd had on that first morning in Carlos' shower. A dream that had him startle awake with a gasp, the tingling, heated sensation of hands on his skin still tangible. Spencer froze instantly, acutely aware of Seth sleeping beside him, unaware of what he had just done in Spencer's mind…

…strong calloused hands sliding under his shirt, caressing his skin, exploring, teasing…hot breath against his ear, whispering…stubble against the side of his neck, making his hairs stand on edge…heat, white, blinding heat and pleasure as those hands gripped his hips tightly, angling them in just the right way…

Spencer pressed a hand over his mouth so as to not make a sound, desperately trying to get control of his body. Oh god, oh god…

At this point he wasn't even sure if it had been a memory or just his imagination cooking up these images, triggered by his epiphany in the bathroom.

Whatever it was, he suddenly couldn't get out of the bed fast enough, unmindful not to wake Seth in his haste. The older man turned to look at him as he got to his feet, as always instantly awake, a question on his face.

"'fine," Spencer murmured, more heat rising to his cheeks, before hurrying into the bathroom, unable to stay under Seth's gaze much longer.

He shut the door behind him and stalked over to the sink, turning the water on cold, as cold as it would go. After splashing some into his face, he bent over the sink and let the cooling liquid run over the insides of his wrist.

Breathing in and out, in and out, trying to calm his mind, to not be overwhelmed by his turbulent thoughts.

He didn't come out of the bathroom for a long time.


	17. Chapter 17

My name. Say it again." Seth grabbed him tighter, a thumb tracing the sharp bone of his hip and igniting a shiver. 

Spencer's breaths had flattened out, tremors running through his thin body. He could feel all of the other man pressed together as they were now, the thought alone making him breathless as he was consumed by heat. 

Warm lips brushed the skin over his collar bone lightly, teasingly; the whole length of Seth's body was pressing him into the wall, a leg between his, hip to hip, Seth's hand roaming up his side, his stomach, his arm…leaving a wake of tingling heat everywhere he touched. He was moving against him in perfect sync with his lips and Reid moaned at the friction, eyelids fluttering as he clutched at the man's suit desperately, pulling him in further. "Spencer…Spen-"

"-cer. Spencer!"

With a jolt, Spencer snapped awake.

Light blinded him; he squinted, needing a moment to figure out he was in the car, more precisely on some empty parking lot next to a gas station apparently.

Seth was sitting next to him, fingers tapping on the steering wheel as he waited for him to come around.

Spencer felt heat rush to his cheeks looking at the older man and remembering what had just happened in his mind. Mortified from embarrassment, he looked away, hiding his face behind a curtain of hair. He couldn't be sure because Seth was wearing shades but he thought the man had looked at him with an eyebrow raised.

Oh god, please don't let me have done or said anything…

"You okay?"

There was nothing in Seth's tone that told him anything he wanted to know.

"Uh huh, fine," he nodded jerkily, pulling himself together, "Sorry, what was it?"

Seth shrugged, "Nuthin'. Just this is the last gas station for a while down this road. I'm gonna get some gas. You want anything else?"

Spencer shook his head.

He sat quietly as Seth got out of the car, grateful for the time to recover it gave him. Gosh, why did this keep happening? Dreams like that in the situation he was in…it was almost as mortifying as the usual nightmares…

Trying to distract himself he looked through the windshield.

Nothing about his surroundings seemed familiar, except in the very vague way of every Mexican gas station and every mile of dusty highway sort of looking the same. He had no idea where he was, or when for that matter. They had left the motel in the early morning hours, but he had no idea when or for how long he'd dozed off….he'd just been exhausted from being shaken away night after night, first by nightmares, now by this…he hardly got any sleep at all anymore it seemed…

He just hoped Seth hadn't noticed that something had changed. If he had he'd covered it up extremely well; other than that little incident in the bathroom he'd acted towards him just like always.

Spencer turned his head and watched as Seth put gas in the tank and then went into the gas station to pay.

He couldn't help but watch the man as he walked across the lot, take in the way he walked, confident and straight, with a slight edge to it, emphasized by the dark suit…it was just the right mix of effortlessly elegant and darkly sexy…especially if one knew of the muscles underneath that suit, or remembered the way those hands felt, strong and calloused….

Spencer pressed a hand to his face in frustration.

For two days now he had been battling with thoughts like these. It was like the universe had decided he didn't have enough problems already, now his mind and body had found yet another way to screw with him. He really didn't know what to do with himself.

Of all the memories that could have come back to him, apparently his muddled brain had decided that these, not his family, not his home, not his work, no, just these memories were the ones he needed right now.

He supposed it was because he was spending so much time with Seth that those memories had been activated… still he wasn't sure he was happy about having them back.

Overall, he was glad for everything that he got back of course…but knowing this, what had been, in detail…it was putting pressure on him. He was starting to feel more and more like he needed to do something about it. After all…from what he remembered, their relationship had been anything but platonic.

And if he was already feeling this…antsy, this….unbalanced…without remembering everything, he could only guess at how Seth must feel holding back for his sake.

He almost wanted to laugh at his thoughts. Only days ago this sort of inner debate would have never even crossed his mind. He might have been aware of Seth's attraction to him but he wouldn't ever have considered doing anything about it…too unsafe, too soon, too everything…

Maybe the difference now was that he didn't only feel pressured because he could tell what Seth was probably thinking…it was what he was thinking as well. He was starting to feel like he wanted to do something about this. The things he was remembering….

Spencer pushed his hair out of his face with a groan, feeling heat creep up his neck as well now.

It all seemed so obvious, so simple. They had been together. He was pretty certain Seth wanted him still…and he wanted it too apparently.

But it wasn't simple.

He was just mortified of what would happen if he made a wrong move, in whichever direction. If he did he wouldn't be able to go back…

Seth came back to the car in that moment, interrupting his thoughts. He tossed him a bottle of water, then started the engine and turned on the AC. Very fleetingly Spencer felt relief that apparently he was misinterpreting his red face for something stemming from the heat. He stared at the water bottle in his hand, still not fully able to shake his prior train of thought. Things like this…taking care of him, worrying, asking how he was, the books, the comforting gestures at night, taking the time to listen….

He knew it was definitely not only a physical attraction to Seth he was feeling. It was everything, as messed up as it all was. He couldn't help but feel like-

Startled, Spencer shook his head. Oh god, he was crazy. Just crazy. He couldn't actually just have considered the possibility that he might be…

Crazy, crazy, crazy, you don't even know who you are, how can you know what you want? 

Yes, those thoughts were definitely crazy. Not that he was surprised. Seth was the only person he had contact with…he'd saved him, made him feel safe…the response he was having was probably just natural…well, apart from the physical…he supposed that was all him…crap…

He blushed, glancing at Seth through lowered lashes. Well, why did the guy have to be all rugged and chiseled and tan and- argh! Doing it again!

He looked away quickly. Luckily, Seth still didn't seem to notice.

"Where are we going?" he made himself ask after about five minutes, if only to remind himself of how lost he still was on every level.

Seth shrugged. "We'll know when we get there."

Spencer didn't reply. He just sat there quietly, wondering to himself just when it had somehow stopped bothering or upsetting him to not know specifics, or to get these kinds of answers. Probably around the time he had started trusting Seth.

Rationally he knew of course that it was beyond crazy to do what he was doing. To just let himself be steered like this, content as long as he could stay with Seth, completely dependent. But what was he supposed to change now?

Fact was, he did feel good with Seth. Safe and grounded and welcome. He didn't want to lose that. And he did trust Seth. He would know where to go; he had been doing fine for the past two weeks. Memory or no memory, he would be alright.

Spencer closed his eyes, focusing on the warm breeze through the window and the soft music from the radio and on generally feeling better than he had in days.

No reason to freak yourself out. It's fine. The way it is now is fine, you don't have to rush into anything. Yes, you can't help thinking 'that' but it doesn't have to mean anything….you don't have to address it now…not ever if you don't want to… 

He wasn't sure how true that was. Yes, Seth wasn't pushing him but…

He shook his head, banishing those thoughts. He would think about that when/if it came to it, not now. And even if later on he decided he might want to….well, it wasn't like he didn't have the time to take it slow, now did he?

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So let me get this straight, just so I understand. You're testifiying that neither you nor Hazel Martinez were sexually assaulted by either Gecko brother during your time as a hostage?"

"Yes."

"Both Martinez' statement and the Geckos' track record would suggest otherwise. In addition, we have a report from SSA Hotchner in which he stated to SSA Morgan that he'd had a conversation with Seth Gecko. Appaerently, Gecko said something to the contrary as well."

"What did he say?"

"Well, we don't have the specific word count but-"

"What is he saying now?"

"...Nothing. He said to ask you. To get your statement and bring it to him. He said he would sign that."

"I can see why you're frustrated."

"Dr. Reid. Must I remind you that you need to say the truth?"

"I have."

"So Seth Gecko never approached you in any way that might be construed as sexual, he didn't touch you, or kiss you or anything of the sort?"

He doesn't answer that. 

He could point out that that question is not the same one he answered previously. He could point out that not claiming rape is not the same as claiming Seth never touched or kissed, or fucked him. He could point out that Hotch couldn't have known anything about that either way because it didn't happen while he was alive but much later; 13 days after his death to be exact. 

He doesn't. 

It doesn't belong to them. He won't let them have that to dissect and tear apart. He won't let them taint it. He won't let the knowledge rip a yet larger hole into his former family's heart. 

"Seth Gecko never raped me," he says instead, without flinching, without wavering.

He doesn't care that it messes with the perfect black and white picture they have painted in their heads.

His world is in shambles. Why should they fare any better?

xxx

"I still recall the taste of your tears  
Echoing your voice just like the ringing in my ears  
My favorite dreams of you still wash ashore.  
Scraping through my head 'till I don't want to sleep anymore. 

I just want something I can never have. 

In this place it seems like such a shame.  
Though it all looks different now,  
I know it's still the same  
Everywhere I look you're all I see."

-NIN

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"-th…uh…pl…Seth!"

Again.

He was doing it again.

Seth clamped down on the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white. Night had fallen and he was still driving down the deserted highway. They were hours away from the last gas station now and Spencer had long since fallen back into an uneasy sleep.

Very uneasy.

"-g-oh god, I…Se-"

Seth ground his teeth together, fighting to keep his focus on the street. Spencer's mumbles and sighs right next to him weren't making it exactly easy though. It wasn't the first time the kid was talking in his sleep; in fact, every time he did he ended up sharing the matter of his dreams with Seth vocally somehow. It was never easy to listen to the sobs, the crying, the obvious pain and terror breaking through - but he could stomach that.

This though…it hadn't been the case during the first couple of days, but slowly, occasionally, the matter of Spencer's dreams was rather…ambiguous. Like now.

Seth honestly couldn't tell whether he was moaning in pain, fear or…desire right now. He groaned low in his throat. Just the idea that Spencer might be dreaming of…well, them…he didn't know how to feel about that to be honest…

Generally, he would have assumed any dream of that nature to be a nightmare for Spencer as well, which listening in to would have almost been worse than the other stuff…but…it didn't actually sound like much of a nightmare. He knew what those sounded like, knew that when his name fell in a certain tone, the kid was caught in the early days of the kidnapping…

But right now Spencer seemed less terrified than…

Holy fucking hell, what are you doing, kid?

It was driving him mad.

The fine line between this and the nightmares…never being quite sure about just how Spencer felt…not while he was sleeping and much less while he was awake.

In all honesty, he was beyond ecstatic already that Spencer seemed to have less and less desire to get away from him, that he was so readily relying on him for his safety and even enjoying his company maybe…his only problem was that the better the kid was getting, the less jumpy and broken and fragile he seemed, the harder it became for Seth to hold on to reason. To think like he wasn't truly completely obsessed, and depraved, and predatory…

Fuck!

He wanted Spencer to be okay. He really wanted nothing more. Well, nothing except for wanting Spencer to be okay and be his.

"Seth-"

Again. Fuck. How the hell was he supposed to keep a clear head if the kid kept doing this to him?

He forced himself to keep facing the road, to not look at the pale column of the young man's throat, exposed with his head fallen back against the window. Forced himself to keep driving instead of stopping the car and-

No. No. He had no idea what that dream was really about. Even if it was what he thought it was…it didn't mean a thing. Spencer had come undone in his arms in that underground bathroom, no doubt that it had felt good also, but even then it had been wrong. This, Spencer probably couldn't help. It wasn't a prompting or an invitation to take advantage yet again.

But-

Yes, but, he couldn't help but keep thinking that Spencer was giving him the oddest signals even when awake these days, like he had this morning, or the day before in the bathroom…

Plus, he knows. He must have pieced that much together from what you told him, even if he's misinterpreting the most important part. He knows you want him and he hasn't run. He's stayed. What does that say?

He didn't know what it said. He just knew his self control was wearing thinner and thinner these days.

Right now he was just one more breathy murmur of his name away from throwing all caution to the wind and jumping the kid right here on the roadside. Ethics be damned, reason be damned…even if grabbing Spencer and pushing him down and kissing him senseless would almost definitely trigger memories in him that should best stay buried forever…

God, no. No. He'll remember. And it'll be just like before…just still just be the criminal forcing himself onto a victim…whatever he think he wants now, he won't want it once he remembers who you truly are, how he truly feels about you. He'll hate you.

He thought of the way Spencer had smiled at him back at the motel when they had been reading. No. 

"Get a grip, kid," he murmured under his breath, "Get a grip, cause I won't."

He was eternally grateful that Spencer had drifted off into a deeper sleep again by now, resting peacefully, quiet and clueless as to just how close to danger he constantly was.

xxx

They didn't come across another motel.

Seth didn't say anything about it, just kept on driving down the high way, prepared to go on for as long as necessary. If it were only him he would have just pulled over at some point during the night and taken a nap in the car – as it was, be it because of the memory of those fucking undead creatures lurking in the dark or just paranoia in general, he wasn't about to just fall asleep somewhere that wasn't secure.

No, he could sleep once he and the kid were behind a closed door. He could go without sleeping for a long time; he was used to it. He just smoked more and kept his eyes on the side of the road. It wasn't a bother.

Focusing on trying to find a place to stay was at least taking his mind off of dangerous topics.

Now that Spencer was awake again that was even more important.

He glanced at the young man on the passenger's side who had his legs drawn against his chest and was holding a book in his hands. If he had been reading before he wasn't anymore though; instead he was looking back at Seth and expression of worry on his face.

"We should stop somewhere," he said when he saw Seth's questioning expression.

Seth shrugged, "Nowhere to stop."

Spencer bit his lip, staring out at the desert road for a short moment. "Just pull over then. There's no traffic."

"It's fine," Seth shook his head, "I'll drive till we find something."

He was surprised when instead of just accepting the decision like usually Spencer sat up a little straighter, a certain urgency to his tone, "Seth, you need to sleep, too."

Again Seth shrugged, trying not to get carried away by the idea that Spencer was seemingly worried about him. He shouldn't read so much into little things, he knew, the kid probably just didn't want to crash if he fell asleep behind the wheel. But maybe…

"I'm good," he said resolutely. He was going to keep driving. They weren't spending the night outside. He didn't need to worry the kid by going into details about why.

Or did he?

"I could drive," Spencer wasn't letting up, "then you could take a nap-"

Seth huffed, "You don't remember your last name, kid. You expect me to trust that you remember how to drive a car?"

He regretted saying it immediately when he saw Spencer's expression, the way he closed up visibly.

Damn. Not only did he know how sore a spot not being able to remember was for the kid. More importantly, Spencer had barely shown any initiative since waking up without a memory and Seth had instinctually taken to just making decisions for him, just like he always had for Richie.

But he knew he couldn't do that, not with Spencer.

He didn't want it to be that way. He didn't want Spencer to feel like he had no say in how he lived or what they did.

He sighed, "I'm sure you know how to drive, kid. It just wouldn't be any help cause I won't be able to sleep in the car anyway."

Spencer eyed him silently and for a moment Seth was sure he had already screwed up and made him pull back into his shell again, destroying the first sapling of recovering self-determination with his thoughtlessness.

Eventually though, Spencer asked, "Why not?"

Seth sighed inaudibly, relieved to not have shut the kid up for good.

"Same reason you can't sleep at night," he explained, "I need a door to lock and four walls around me."

He wasn't sure what Spencer's expression reflected then, if it was realization, like he hadn't realized Seth was also affected by what had happened, or pity even for the same reason, or alarm. Maybe a mixture of all of those things.

"Do you think they- someone is still following us?" He definitely sounded worried at that, too close to scared for his liking.

"No," Seth was quick to say, "it's just force of habit. I spent most of my life with someone out for me. It's not an easy thing to shake."

It was quiet for a while then, Spencer staring out of the wind shield like he was mulling things over. When it took too long Seth realized he might just have screwed up after all.

"What?" he sighed, exhausted, "Just spit it out."

Spencer frowned, staring down at his legs, "I'm just…useless. I can't even be upset that you wouldn't trust me to keep us out of trouble. If something did happen…I don't know what I would do. I can't even-"

"Kid," Seth interrupted, "that's bull. I didn't mean it like that."

"It's true though," Spencer said sullenly, "I can't even protect myself. That's why you have to constantly watch out for the both of us, why you can't sleep…"

"Stop it, "Seth shook his head with conviction, "You're not a burden. I told you I want to do this. Take care of…things."

He wanted to say take care of us, but even in his head that had sounded too…

Frustrated, he blinked slowly.

How the hell had they ended up here, with this sort of discussion? Over the past days Spencer had hardly said anything about their constellation –but it seemed he had thought about it a lot and come to some rather down putting conclusions.

"Yes," the young man murmured slowly, like he had at least believed that by now; still he was sounding utterly distressed somehow, "But I…I don't remember anything and I'm not doing anything even where I could help. I'm just useless."

Seth grimaced. He wasn't sure where this was coming from now. So far Spencer had seemed content with the way it was –but then, he could be glad and grateful and still feel bad about their arrangement, he supposed. It sounded just like him to feel bad for not contributing, for just tagging along and letting Seth decide and organize and even pay…

Seth sighed. He had no idea how to make him understand that that was ridiculous. He could have said that he was giving him everything he could ask for just by breathing the same air as him -but that seemed a little out of character for him even at this point.

Instead he decided to do what he did best. Let actions speak rather than words.

He pulled over and killed the engine, throwing open the car door, "Okay, get out of the car." He waved at Spencer expectantly when he just blinked, surprised. "Come on, out you get."

Standing outside he waited for Spencer to follow him and come to stand about two feet away from him with a confused if not nervous expression.

"What are we doing?" he asked, arms drawn around his skinny frame as he watched Seth, trying to figure him out.

Seth calmly took off his jacket and threw it onto the hood of the car, then made sure his gun was safely tucked into the back of his pants.

"You're right."

Spencer tensed at that, his face falling, but Seth didn't give him time to get to more wrong conclusions. "Don't get me wrong. I want to do this, to make sure you're alright, to take care of you, and I will –but that doesn't me that you shouldn't know how to defend yourself. How to fight. So, I'll teach you."

He supposed it really couldn't hurt. Not that he would ever rely on Spencer being able to defend himself physically –he knew his turf too well for that, knew the kind of people he might come up against.

No. But who knew if he would always be there? And after that pitiful performance back at Carlos' place he was rather sure Spencer could need some fighting skills. It would make them both feel better at the very least.

"Teach me?" Spencer repeated, utterly taken off guard now it seemed. This, he hadn't expected.

"Yeah," Seth nodded, matter of factly, "I'm not promising that it'll let me sleep in the car, but I guess it'll make us both breathe more easily."

Spencer didn't reply, looking unconvinced at best. For a long moment he just looked at Seth, in thought. He seemed unsure about Seth was trying to achieve with this but it was obvious the idea of being able to defend himself was intriguing to him.

Eventually, he nodded hesitantly. "Okay."

Seth smirked, satisfied. Then he out on his no nonsense expression, ready to be serious. "Okay. Now, first of all, I'm sure I don't have to tell you, that if there's a danger and you have the chance, you run."

At that, Spencer frowned, starting to look disappointed. He crossed his arms in front of him, "I thought you meant you would teach me how to fight, not just run away…but fight back…like you did back there at the house."

"We're not gonna start with that."

"Why not?" The disappointment was obvious in his features now, mixed with traces of resentment and self-consciousness, "Because I wouldn't be able to do it anyway? I already know how to run away."

He looked at Seth's bulky frame and then down at his own thin arms, immediately discouraged and down again. Maybe he had remembered how easily that guy back at the house had gotten control over him, or how easy it had been for Seth as well right after he'd woken up…

"No," Seth shook his head, before he had to hear more bull about the kid being useless. Of course he could teach Spencer to be lethal if he really wanted to even though the kid probably weighed no more than a 130 pounds soaking wet and had the upper body strength of a twelve year old. He wouldn't though; that wasn't what this was about.

"With enough practice you could. But you don't want to hurt anyone…and you don't have to. The most important thing is to be able to deflect danger. We'll start with that."

Spencer still looked unconvinced but there wasn't really anything to say again that so he didn't. Seth didn't let himself be deterred; the more he thought about this the more important doing it seemed to him.

"Okay," he started, "Let's say someone is attacking you, and you can't run, because he's already grabbed you. What do you do?"

Again he only got silence in return, this time obviously stemming from cluelessness.

"Thought so. Come here," he demanded, reaching out an arm to motion the other forward.

Spencer hesitated, suddenly looking unsure. His eyes flickered over Seth's frame, his hand, an expression flashing over his face that made Seth hesitate as well.

Damn. Was this really a good idea? He had barely gotten the kid to stop flinching around him and now he was going to grab him and push and floor him? Remind him of how he had been around Carlos? And that guy whose hand he'd broken?

The sudden, unwelcome thought occurred to him that as fragile as the kid was right now, that this sort of activity could possibly trigger his trauma, or worse, not only freak him out but make him remember similar scenes between the two of them. With what he was about to show the kid it wasn't unthinkable…

Just as he thought about blowing the whole thing off though, Spencer lifted his chin and squared his shoulders almost unnoticeably and stepped forward into his range decidedly. There was determination in his eyes, as well as hope. He really wanted this…maybe even enough to break out of his comfort zone. He was trying, pushing past his fears, trying to get over them…

In the end it was because of that that Seth didn't back out. This was risky, yes, but if it worked it would do so much for them both and their relationship, he knew.

He took a small step forward as well, reaching out to grab hold of the young man's wrist with one hand, his grip firm but carefully restrained. He felt Spencer tensing involuntarily, taking a shallow breath in apprehension.

"Relax," he said quietly, brushing a thumb over the inside of the kid's pale wrist, "I'm not going to hurt you. I'll just show you what to do."

Spencer looked up at him and he held his gaze for a second, calm and strong. Finally, Spencer nodded, determination and focus returning. So far so good.

Deciding to just go for it, Seth tightened his grip slightly, just enough so he knew Spencer wouldn't be able to get out of it.

"Try getting free."

And so Spencer did. Sure enough, no amount of pulling and twisting worked. Seth held on to the thin wrist in his grasp effortlessly, just waiting until Spencer realized he wasn't getting anywhere.

"Here's the mistake," he then said, "You can't rely on force. Here, pull your arm away at the point where my thumb is instead. That's where my grip will break the most easily."

Spencer obliged and after a few tries, did manage to get free. They tried it again until he had the hang of it.

"Good," Seth smiled, encouraged by the fact that there had yet to be any flashbacks.

Deliberately slowly, he reached out, putting his hands on both of the kid's shoulders. He watched for Spencer's reaction carefully but other than some tension in general everything seemed to be fine. All he got was two big hazel eyes watching him without blinking and slightly quicker breathing. He did his best to not think about that –or about the warm skin under his fingers –this was important. He would teach Spencer, the way he had taught his little brother years ago.

"Now, if I'm already holding you like this, your first instinct will be what?" Spencer lifted his hands and grabbed onto Seth's wrists as if to try and pry off his hands. Seth nodded, "Exactly. Always go with your first instinct, nothing else will come to you in an emergency. So your hands come up, but instead of just pulling from the outside, grab onto the inside of my wrists and yank them outwards."

Spencer nodded and tried.

"Quicker and with more force. Again. Good. After that you step back and out of my reach."

They repeated the exercise and Spencer succeeded rather well. The sullen, cautious expression on his face was slowly being replaced by enthusiasm and Seth stopped worrying. This was working.

"Okay, another thing," he put his hands back on the kid's shoulders, "Easier than trying to break my hold is to just go for soft targets. Eyes, nose, ears, trachea. Here," he took one of Spencer's hands and moved it till the young man's fingers touched the hollow right between his collar bones. "No protecting muscle, just skin. You hit any of these core areas."

xxx

Spencer nodded, gulping down his nervousness as he tried to listen to what Seth was saying.

He had no idea just how he'd maneuvered himself into this. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he was sweating –not because he was worried Seth would accidentally or intentionally hurt him showing him the moves, he wished it were that, but no. Seth's hand was warm and heavy on his shoulder, holding him in position, the other wrapped around his smaller one, pressing his fingers to his neck. Spencer wished it wouldn't make his heart skip but it did. All of this sudden close contact was making him…nervous to say the least.

He must have tensed because Seth let go of his hand and looked at him inquiringly then. He quickly shrugged it off as best as he could, trying to get a grip on himself.

He had wanted this. To show that he could be useful, not just a burden. Somehow he still doubted that even if Seth did his best he would become a good fighter but he could at least try.

"More?" He nodded eagerly.

Seconds later he wished he hadn't.

"Okay, I'm going to show you what is called a choke hold. It's very common." Seth moved around him, a hand squeezing his shoulder reassuringly before an arm was wrapped around his shoulders from behind. Suddenly Seth was right there, against him, his breath right in his neck, his chest against his back and Spencer all but jumped, his heart missing yet another beat.

He tensed, suddenly terribly afraid that Seth might catch on to what was going on.

He clearly didn't though. "Too much?" he asked from behind, an edge of alarm in his voice, like he thought he was scaring him.

"No," he quickly shook his head.

He wasn't worried. Maybe he should have been, especially after the first few events between them, but somewhere between sleeping next to Seth and giving him full power of decision over his life Spencer had started to trust that Seth wouldn't hurt him.

A fact that Seth didn't seem to realize.

He wanted to tell him, thought he needed to know, but he was afraid of the sound of his own voice right now. "Show me," he said instead, quick and low.

For a moment nothing happened, then Seth pulled him closer still, tightening his hold. Spencer instinctually reached up to grab the man's arm.

Seth hummed in approval. "Right. Make sure you can breathe. Pull my arm away from your throat as far as possible and bring your chin to your chest. If you've managed that you can put your left leg behind mine…right…and then you strike out with your arm so your elbow hits my ribs and I fall backwards."

Spencer did, trying his best to follow the instructions. He brought his leg behind Seth's and then pushed instead of really hitting, trying to get free. Seth's body was as unmovable as a brick wall. "Not like that," he chided and Spencer was about to ask him what to do when his arm tightened further around his neck.

He wouldn't have know how to explain what happened then. Maybe instinct took over, maybe something else…his body reacted to the motion automatically, like it knew what to do. He sent a sharp jab backwards, kicking Seth's leg out from under him and then pushing before he even knew what he was doing.

Seth, who obviously hadn't been expecting that actually lost his footing and stumbled but didn't let go. Spencer yelped when he was yanked backwards as well, losing the ground under his feet.

Next thing he knew he was sprawled over Seth who was lying flat on the ground, their bodies pressed together chest to toe. Seth coughed, a hand pressed to his ribs as he tried to catch himself and Spencer could feel his muscles move under his clothes as close as they were. His breath hitched and he froze. So much for keeping a cool head…

"Right," Seth panted, seemingly oblivious, "…obviously try not to fall down as well…but that was surprisingly good."

Spencer flushed in embarrassment, hastily scrambling to get back to his feet. "Sorry," he prayed to God Seth wasn't noticing his reaction, "Sorry, are you okay?"

Seth actually laughed at that like the question was funny, easily getting back to his feet as well. "Yeah."

He couldn't have been sure but the thought he saw something in Seth's expression then, a hint of something….

No, he can't have realized, it's not like he can hear my heart beat can he….oh, goodness…

"Uh, maybe we should call it quits for now?" he asked, feeling rather desperate.

"Nah, I think we're on to something," Seth replied and if he had any idea what Spencer was thinking he was doing a damn good job of keeping his face and voice absolutely neutral now.

"Let's try one more thing and next time I'll show you how to shoot."

He didn't get the chance to protest before Seth was suddenly behind him again, a strong arm wrapping around his waist while the other went to the back of his head, tugging at his hair. Spencer gasped, jumping as his heart set off galloping once more. He tried to step forward and away, but Seth held him tightly against him, pulling at his hair, not tightly enough to hurt, but enough to bring his head back and hold it there.

"This one's important," Seth said by his ear, completely calm, "As long as I've got you like this you can't build up a counterattack cause every time I pull I break your focus. You get what I mean?"

Spencer gulped. He sure as hell did.

xxx

Seth knew he needed to stop what he was doing.

He had thought he could teach Spencer to fight, could be close to him without doing anything stupid or forgetting himself –he'd been wrong.

It wasn't entirely his fault though. Restraint wasn't exactly made easier by the realization that Spencer felt similar. At first he'd thought the flush, the jumpiness, the quick heart beat, the gasps were all due to tension or apprehension. But at the latest after Spencer had landed on top of him, staring at him with that same wide eyed expression as in the bathroom two days before, he'd known. It wasn't fear that he was seeing.

Not at all. Spencer was attracted to him.

It had likely been a combination of both, the relief that fear was out of the game now, and the thrill of realizing that which had led his brain to shut off shortly after. How else was he supposed to explain what he was doing now? His fingers curled in the young man's hair and his eyes fluttered slightly as he breathed in…so close…

Spencer's breath hitched when warm breath hit his neck and for a moment he flashed back to that faraway incident in the phone booth…it had been similar, he'd lost control for the first time there…but he'd snapped out of it because Spencer had been out of his mind with fear. Now, it was completely different.

The young man was just standing there in his arms, not even trying to get away, but instead shivering deliciously at his touch…

It was too much. Before he knew it his reason waved him goodbye and he spun Spencer around, the fingers of one hand still tangled in his long hair, the others coming up to reach for his face. He caught a glimpse of widened hazel eyes, slightly parted lips...no worry, no protest...just surprise...how the hell was he supposed to stop himself?


	18. Chapter 18

The moment that changed everything came -although it shouldn't have- as a shock to Spencer.

One second Seth was telling him about self defense while he was busy trying to keep his wildly inappropriate reactions at bay, the other man's proximity, the breath in his neck and the hand in his hair not particularly helpful, the next moment he felt himself being whirled around and backed against the side of the car, Seth's heavy body pressed against his, hands in his hair, on his face, black eyes suddenly right in front of his face, holding an intensity that made his breath stutter.

He gasped, his heart skipping a beat only to then start beating wildly. For the second time in minutes, they were so close that there barely was room for air between their bodies -and this time nothing about it was coincidental or practical.

This wasn't about self defense anymore.

It was obvious in Seth's eyes now, in his whole body language, his hold on him. What had only been a vague and fleeting notion so far was suddenly real and palpable, right there, impossible to evade or ignore. It was right there in Seth's eyes, his face, his hands, his breathing. What he was thinking, feeling, longing for….

Spencer. Spencer. Spencer.

The voice from his flashbacks echoed in his head, the memory of hot breath in his ear making him shiver. This is real, his brain supplied uselessly over the rushing of blood in his ears. This is happening, it's not a memory, it's not your assumption about him. Look at him. It's real.

It was. He didn't realize just how much Seth had held back so far until now -not until suddenly he wasn't and his control had crumbled and his hands were gripping him tightly, taking over control, and he could feel the strength opposing him, so much rawness, so much power and sheer, dark will that it should have frightened him.

Except it didn't.

All he saw was Seth. Seth who could have so easily been frightening to him in his whole being, his actions, his expression right now if it hadn't been for days and weeks of seeing him, seeing who this man really was, what he was to him.

It didn't scare him, not Seth, not the vague notion he'd been so uncertain about in his head and which was suddenly about to manifest with Seth's face so close to his that their breath mingled. His heart was racing, yes, sweat starting to set on his brow, but none of it was remotely a stress response.

No panic now, no unpleasant memories at the contact...because it was Seth. All there was were the conflicting emotions he'd had all along, embarrassment, uncertainty, curiosity, excitement, desire, suddenly intensified so much that they drowned out all else, all rational thought.

He swallowed hard, heart beating wildly against his rib cage as he just stood there, completely overwhelmed, unmoving and wide-eyed as he stared up into those black eyes, waiting, expecting…almost welcoming the impending end of all this tension, and tiptoeing and not knowing, his own doubts momentarily drowned by the absolute certainty in Seth's eyes.

"Seth..."

He blinked, startled and confused when Seth suddenly pulled away, the fire in his expression broken by dawning shock and strain. For a moment before he went back to looking regretful, Seth looked scared, something Spencer had never seen, never expected... but that made him realize that this was much deeper than he'd been aware.

Seth moved back with a jerking motion, both of them staring at each other and in a brief moment of clarity Spencer suddenly wasn't confused at all, didn't need any more details to know.

Know all that he really needed to know.

How deeply Seth felt for him on a physical but also emotional level. How afraid he was of losing him. How certain he was that he would if he got too close…that he just had…

He watched as Seth's mouth opened, closed, like he was trying to come up with an explanation for what had just –not- happened, an excuse, an apology, a plea….all of it seeming so out of character, so off somehow…

He didn't wait for any of it to come out. Instead he stepped forward, catching Seth's hands to keep him from moving further back and acted for once.

The contact of lips on dry lips, of beginning stubble against his face was peculiar enough to register with him next to the sensation of butterflies in his chest and the pulse thrumming in his ears. The kiss was short, light -but it said everything that needed to be said. And it didn't feel wrong, or forced. It felt right. It finally let him focus on what he had already known he wanted for a while and what Seth should know as well. That there was no reason to be scared.

He pulled back to find Seth staring at him, looking almost like he was in shock for a long moment before his expression turned strained again, pained, guilty…panicked almost.

"Don't-" Strong hands grabbed hold of his upper arms as though to push him back but ended up merely digging into his flesh almost desperately. Seth shook his head, his eyes blazing. "Don't. You don't know-"

"It's okay," Spencer said, trying to look as calm as he could manage given his own state.

He was sure now. More sure than he had been of anything since losing his memory. He didn't care what Seth's doubts were, what was holding him back. He didn't want him to hesitate anymore, or to hold back. He wanted to finally move forward, to take the plunge.

"Seth," he moved closer again, reaching up to touch the man's arm, "I want to-"

"You don't know what you want," Seth cut him off with unexpected harshness, shaking his head. His fingers flexed around Spencer's arms, like he was fighting to keep from moving. He shook his head again. "You don't know what you're doing-"

This time Spencer interrupted him, determined, "I know how I feel." His voice dropped. "About you."

Seth's eyes flashed and his jaw moved, his inner battle clearly visible as he swallowed hard. Longing. Desire. Hope.

Too quickly though, his face darkened again, only to stay stony, "You don't know me."

Spencer glared, couldn't help but to. It was so clear that Seth wanted this, that this was how it had been and was supposed to be, that it was what they both wanted…why couldn't he just-

"Yes, I do. I know everything that matters."

"No, you don't."

But he did. He knew how he felt, that it wasn't an illusion. That his heart beat faster just thinking about Seth, his face, his hands, his walk, the way he held him, or touched his face briefly, or got him the kind of coffee he liked or smirked at him reading Shakespeare.

Yes, he might not know everything. But Seth had kept him safe, and well and happy, he'd done everything to make sure he was alright, to protect him from harm, even from himself it seemed…it was so obvious that he would rather hurt himself than hurt Spencer at this point, that he would do anything….

What else did he need to know?

"It doesn't matter," with some effort he managed to grab a hold of one of Seth's hands and clutched it tightly in his own, looking at the man with all the conviction and emotion he could muster, "I trust you."

At that, something in Seth's expression just...broke.

Then, before he could do or say anything else, he was back to being pushed against the car, long fingers grabbing hold of his face with force this time, of his jaw, angling it up and then Seth was kissing him, really kissing him, the way he had in all those flashback and dreams and god…

Spencer gasped, heat rushing through him as he felt the taller man pressing against him, in his space, fingers tugging at his hair, pulling him closer just a little too roughly, lips moving against his, hot and insistent and desperate. His body reacted instinctively, pressing closer, seeking the contact, heat rushing through every fiber of him…

His eyes fluttered shut as Seth deepened the kiss, their breath mingling along with their body heat and he couldn't help the soft moan that escaped him at the friction between them. Seth groaned at the sound, somehow pressing even closer instead of letting up, kissing him like it was the oxygen he needed to breathe.

For a while then, everything stopped, everything melted into the tangled mass of breath and limbs and heat, his thoughts, his boundaries and self fading along with the last doubts and worries...

For a while he came as close to simple bliss as he thought he ever had.

It ended too soon, and only when actual oxygen became an issue.

Spencer stared up at Seth, panting slightly, feeling his cheeks flush at the other man's stare. He didn't move though, keeping his hand on the broad chest in front of him, the other entangled in the man's dark suit. He didn't want to move, didn't want Seth to move away. He wanted him to keep kissing him and touching him…to keep holding him close….he wanted him to stop looking at him with that totured expression like this was something aweful...

Seth opened his mouth, and Spencer could already feel him shift minimally, reluctantly moving away. He grabbed on more tightly out of isntinct, pulling him back.

"Don't," he was the one to shake his head this time, "I don't care what was yesterday or what happens tomorrow. This is now."

He didn't know from where he suddenly took the confidence, the strength to act, more so even act like this...all he knew was that if he didn't he wouldn't like what would happen, what Seth would do...knew that they would lose, one way or the other. And he wasn't ready to lose anything else. Especially not what he had just found.

He looked up at Seth pleadingly, knowing that no matter how tight his grip he wouldn't be able to hold that man if he didn't want to be held. He could see the lasting conflict in the other's eyes, the details of which he still didn't fully understand and didn't care to understand now. He just wanted Seth to see that it didn't matter. Not now.

"This is new. Yesterday is behind us."

He didn't care about the past.

How, if he didn't even remember it? All he had was now and the future. He moved closer into Seth's arms and breathed in relief when he allowed it, unmoving.

He thought it might be all he needed.

Seth stroked his thumb over his face, tracing the prominent cheek bone with a gentleness that contradicted his grip earlier. He was quiet for a long time, just staring at him, his expression everchanging, torn. At one point, he seemed to want to say something, and Spencer knew what it was, the 'I'm sorry' was written all over his features.

"Are you really?" he smiled, attempting to distract with humor. For a moment he thought he'd failed but then Seth's face became smooth, an odd sort of determination settling over his face as he traced Spencer's smile with his thumb.

"Not enough."

He bent his head, kissing the younger man again. This time it was slow and deep, not as rushed or frantic but just as passionate. Decided, not hesitant at all. Claiming. Claiming this, him, them.

Spencer melted against Seth with a sigh, eyes fluttering closed once more.

He didn't care what would happen in one week or one day or even one minute from now. Not when the moment was this perfect.


	19. Chapter 19

This is it. 

It's as perfect as anything he can think of, as perfect as anything ever could be. 

Because he is perfect. 

They are perfect, enclosed in their own little world, their tiny, fragile bubble of self-deception and hope that hold just enough room for the two of them and not even all of their story. Not that he minds that. He knows it's better that way. The past has sharp edges, sharp enough to bust their bubble. He doesn't want to leave so he doesn't remember. 

He just is. They are in the moment, with each other, nowhere else. The sheets feel cool against his skin, a welcome contrast to the warm air coming in from the window. He can't remember ever feeling this good, this relaxed, this whole. What does it matter then that it's some small, mediocre hotel room in the desert they're in, or that they are essentially lost, no home and no history, no roots. 

He doesn't care because the person next to him is all he needs. The bare body entangled with his is a reminder that he is alive, and he welcomes it like the air he needs to breathe, even if his skin almost feels raw from the contact, even if they are so close, pressed together so tightly that it becomes hard to breathe. 

Maybe he doesn't need to breathe. He always though he did, but then, he's never been this close to anyone, and he never thought he would be, or would want to be either. He never thought he'd die if they were to leave him. 

Soft touch of lips, of fleeting fingertips, running shivers up his spine. He lets his head fall back into the pillow, eyes drifting shut. "Yes…"

"NO!"

He is wishing for a lot of things in that moment, there is just so much going so terribly wrong at once. But what he is really wishing for is for him to finally stop. To just be quiet and not make it all even worse. The pain is bad enough to make him want to peel off his own skin just to get rid of the sensation, but it's not as bad as knowing that he's not the only one suffering through this. He wishes he could do something, anything. That, or pass out. Maybe they'll leave him alone once he isn't there to be hurt by them hurting him. Cause that's what they want in the end, isn't it? An eye for an eye. A loss for a betrayal.

A fist to his stomach, then he can feel cool metal pressing against his neck. Another cry of protest, then one of pain. He jerks, trying to shake off the arms holding him down, the darkness threatening to overcome him, but there is no use in either.

"You'll be sorry for what you did long before this is over."

The words sneered at him just leave him cold. They are taunts but they are the last thing that could affect him right now. He knows he'll never be sorry. Neither one of them is, as ridiculous as that is considering everything.

In the end, that's the whole problem, isn't it?

"Don't get up." 

A hand pulls him back onto the mattress resolutely, a warm body wraps around his, holding him in place under the covers. 

He doesn't get up. 

He's hungry but it can wait for a couple of hours. Especially if he's to be distracted. 

The hand runs up his side, over his back and rests on his neck. He leans down for a slow kiss, forgetting all about his empty stomach but not about his hunger. They both laugh when he flips them around, straddling his lover. There can never be enough contact of skin of skin, of fingers touching and breaths mingling. It's like a gaping hole they need to fill, one they didn't even know existed before they started this. A darkness, a cold that will seize the first chance to return if their grip on each other slips only minutely.

They end up just looking each other, even with their faces so close together that it should be impossible. Deep, deep eyes meet his, with the same fierceness and clarity that is still so inexplicable, so wondrous to him even after all this time, with a devotion that he never would have believed possible. It reminds him of how they ended up here, of how messed up their little story really is if you look too close. Of how close their cozy little cabin in the woods is to the abyss. 'Don't look into the abyss'… 

He can't remember the rest of that saying but he is pretty sure he knows what the general message was when he looks into those eyes. They could swallow him whole and leave nothing. He could vanish in him today and wouldn't even mind, they both could. It's a mutual addiction. 

"Are you never scared?" he asks against better knowledge. 

All he gets in return is a smile to remind him how silly a question that is. What do they have to be scared of? What do they have to lose?

Nothing and everything. 

Another sharp blow. Or maybe a kick or stab. He can't tell anymore, can't even distinguish between one red flash of pain and the next.

"Took a pretty hard fall off your high horse, didn't you?"

That taunting voice again. Again, he doesn't bother with an answer. Yes, he fell. But then, what else was supposed to happen? He was so high, at the highest point. Where else was he supposed to go from there but down? It makes sense in a way.

Now though, that he is lying here on the hard, cold floor, he thinks that maybe, once you've been that high up, you can never fall. That maybe they can never take that from you no matter how hard they throw you down.

He tries to hold onto that thought, to not let it be chased away by the predominant presence of agony. The pain is making it hard to think, and it's all blurring, the burning, the pressure, the wetness on his hands and face, crimson streaked with tears.

Whose tears, whose blood? A short moment of clarity, of fear spiking up ….where is he?

He can't hear him anymore and doesn't know if he is glad for it or not. The absence of his voice is enough to psychically tear at his insides, to make him sick with panic and misery –but he thinks that maybe…maybe he should be relieved to know he is not suffering now. That it's almost over.

Maybe.

Darkness comes before he can decide. He thinks that he is sorry after all but it's too late to say so. It's too late for a lot of things.

"I love you." 

"Hm?" He turns around in bed to face him, still half asleep, barely there. Warm limbs wrap around his, pulling him close, and the breath in his neck feels like home. "What did you say?" 

He doesn't answer. He doesn't know why. Not because he thinks he's making a mistake or because he isn't sure. No. 

Maybe he thinks it's not the right time. 

Maybe he should wait until he's more awake. Maybe tomorrow. 

Tomorrow never comes.

"Where is he?!"

He lets them yell, lets them figure out for themselves that the question is pointless. They are alone now, no more knives and fists and taunts. No more pain-filled screams.

Just yelling.

He supposes it doesn't matter. There is no one in the building who will be disturbed by the noise anymore. He doesn't need to look any further or go into the other rooms to know that.

"Where is he?!"

Someone shakes him and it hurts. He coughs and tastes blood in his mouth, then he is let go and finds himself on the floor again.

To think that it would end like this. Of all the possible ways this certainly is the least just, the most screwed one.

Oh, the irony.

He laughs quietly to himself. He doesn't want to. He just does.

It doesn't take them long to find them. Him. They will talk about it for years, a story to tell their colleagues, maybe their wives in quiet nights after loud nightmares, but never their kids….

He just keeps staring at the ceiling, unblinking until his sight blurs. It's better than looking at the bloody floor, or the corpses around him.

He is in no hurry for them to figure out they were too late and come get him.

He is not going anywhere from here. Not really.

This is it.

xxx

He was done.

He had concluded as much time and time again, and yet, with pesky guilt biting at his ankles, he had always somehow managed to pull himself back, to stop himself just before completely letting go of all reason and restraint.

This time, he knew he wouldn't be able to. He couldn't have managed to had he wanted to. And by God, he didn't.

It had been too long. Constantly craving and coveting, feeling need burning him up as he was forced into painful inaction. He had managed longer than he ever thought he would, plagued by mental images of Spencer's soft eyes filled with tears and pain, with fear and disgust, with images of his brother, and of weak, bloody hands pushing at his chest.

But now, with those same hands pulling him close, drawing him in, with those eyes filled with longing and warmth and trust, he was simply done. Done holding back. Done trying to be someone he knew he never truly would be anyway. For the first time in weeks, he dared being Seth again, that man who had once known he could get anything he wanted and who took before anyone could say otherwise.

Still entangled, they stumbled through the door and into the dark room. Seth dropped the car keys to the floor and kicked the door shut behind them, never once letting go of the slender man in his arms. Spencer's arms remained wrapped around his neck, and he didn't open his eyes to take in the change of scenery, utterly lost in their kiss.

They'd barely made it to the motel. The drive had been excruciating with Spencer fidgeting next to him in –what he hoped was- impatience, so much that Seth had almost pulled over again two times. But no. He hadn't wanted to let anything else happen on some god forlorn road in the middle of the desert. Their first kiss had been in a vampire infested ruin, their first time in a dirty bathroom, speckled with blood and guts.

This wouldn't be like that.

Of all the ways in which this was wrong, that would not be added to the list.

Fuck, like it really matters to anyone but you….like it's going to matter to him once-

Just as his train of thought was taking a bad turn, Spencer pressed closer against him, moving in a way that wiped his brain right clean. He groaned….hell, did the kid even know what he was doing to him? Probably not…other than making sure he didn't stop, Spencer had pretty much let him steer their actions so far, simply going with Seth's actions and pace. Well, considering the memory loss….who knew how much of anything he remembered?

That thought at the latest should have been a deterrent, but instead….the idea of somehow making this their first time together, Spencer's first time, and to be free to make it so much better than the last time, to somehow fix it all after all…it spurred him on even more, made him want this even more badly.

Seth lifted his hands to cup both sides of the kid's face and deepen their kiss, growing more and more fervent, never quite sure if he was still on the right side of assertive versus forceful but unable to stop himself anyway.

Luckily, Spencer didn't seem to mind, melting into the kiss readily. They stumbled backwards until their legs hit the bed and Seth barely managed to catch himself on his elbows before his whole weight could crush Spencer into the mattress. The kid yelped at having the breath knocked out of him momentarily, but then laughed into Seth's neck, arms wrapping around him again.

The sound was startling enough to distract Seth from his immediate need; it seemed to go through his whole body, reverberating. He had never heard anything close to a real laugh from the kid.

Laughter, warmth, trust…all things which he hadn't realized how much he wanted, craved them… things he had never even dared to hope for. And yet, here they were.

"Spencer…" Words were trying to form on his tongue, but he couldn't get them out, his thoughts and emotions in utter chaos. Instead he pressed closer, as close as he could, as he dared without crushing the kid, breathing into his neck and reveling in their closeness.

This was just so surreal. He was almost expecting to wake up at any second. But he didn't. And Spencer didn't vanish, didn't fade, didn't turn into a distorted nightmarish version of himself. He remained warm and pliant underneath him, his slight body a perfect fit against Seth's.

'I trust you.' That one sentence kept running through his head over and over, like a spell put on him. He knew he shouldn't put any value to it –after all, he didn't deserve that trust, he had earned it with lies and deceit.  
But something about the way Spencer had said it…like it didn't matter what else he was on top of being a thief and a wanted criminal...like he understood that while other people didn't matter to Seth, and might thus be in danger, that didn't apply to Spencer. That he was safe because he was special.

'You are,' he wanted to say, 'safe. You'll always be safe with me. How could I risk to lose you, this…you're the only one that matters.'

He didn't because he knew it wasn't true. Spencer wasn't safe with him, at least not in any traditional sense of the word. And yet, he was. He just had no way of phrasing it.

At a loss for words, he pressed his lips to the young man's neck, kissing the sensitive skin right behind his ear and reveling in the shiver it ignited. His leg had long ended up between Spencer's, their hips aligned, no air between them. He moved, increasing the friction between them with practiced skill, slowly but definitely.

Spencer gasped, arching into him and tightening his arm around him. Seth moved against him again, lifting his head to see the kid's eyelids flutter and his head fall back. Encouraged, he picked up a steady rhythm, finding a motion that was perfect for the both of them. Spencer's mouth moved silently, forming unheard words and Seth bent down to kiss his own name from his lips. The kid pressed closer to him in response, wrapping on leg around his thigh.

Seth groaned, feeling heat run through him and make his nerve endings tingle. God, he had fanatsized about this, but to actually have it happen... He kissed Spencer again, harder, overwhelming desire urging him on. One of his hands cupped the young man's face again, angling it up for better access, while the other ran down his side, stopping at his waist to slide it under his shirt and caress the warm skin there. Spencer shivered deliciously in response, fingers finding their way into his short dark hair and pulling slightly.

Spencer shirt was open within seconds, laying bare a smooth chest. Seth could feel his fast heart beat as he ran a hand over the white skin there, rediscovering once known territory, properly this time. He kissed Spencer's neck again, then moved down over his collarbone while his hand grabbed hold of the young man's hip, his thumb tracing the sensitive skin there. Another shiver, and Spencer pressed up against him, sighing into his mouth. Their rhythm increased, becoming faster, less patient.

Seth could feel his blood running hot through his veins, tension building with delicious urgency. He needed…

His hand slid down, searching blindly for the button on Spencer's jeans, eager to get it off…

He felt Spencer's sharp intake of breath at the same time that he felt the tensing of his body against him.

Distractedly, he blinking and looked up to find Spencer's eyes locked on his, wide and slightly glazed, but also…nervous? Or…?

The sudden mental image of Spencer lying on another bed, staring up at Seth fearfully as he snapped handcuffs around his wrist hit him hard, spreading cold in his chest.

He froze in mid-motion, fighting down the memory of their last time, with Spencer crying and shaking in his arms, eyes glazed and face pulled into a grimace of agony.

No…

But there were no hands pushing at him still, and no tears, no agony or terror.

It took him a second to realize that Spencer wasn't looking at him the way he had then…

Of course not, he didn't remember that. He looked uncertain, maybe even scared, yes, but….of course he does, you're going way too fast, you're pushing him, he doesn't remember ever doing this, he has no idea what to expect….all he knows you're good at is slamming people into walls and breaking hands…

Well, should have expected that at least…

Of course. As certain and courageous as Spencer had seemed when he'd told him he trusted him, that didn't mean he wouldn't still feel nervous about this at the very least. Even without knowing how much reason he really had to. How could he not even fleetingly doubt his decision? Even if he wanted this- and even here Seth wasn't sure about the kid's true motivation, too afraid of finding the wrong answer to ask. He knew what he wanted Spencer to feel for him, wanted this to be happening out of that emotion. But he knew it was more likely mere attraction combined with some weird form of Stockholm-syndrome-dependency-thing still.

But even if Spencer wanted this to happen for whatever reason: He surely couldn't have completely blocked out that this was Seth-criminalviolenttechnicallyas tranger- who was hovering over him. Especially now, with their very position making the imbalance in power between them, the risk, much more palpable. Knowing what he was capable of doing… it was probably enough to get scared even without remembering what he had done. And yet, Spencer wasn't even actively doing anything to stop him now…probably because by now he was subconsciously too afraid of doing anything to lose him…because Seth had made him that way….

Seth hesitated, fighting with himself. Look what you've already done to him. Stop this. You can still stop…are you really going to do this to him again? And don't tell yourself it won't hurt him, you know it will…maybe not physically but if he ever remembers…

Stop.

'Tell me to stop.' He'd said that last time, not even sure he meant it. Now though, he couldn't even get it past his lips. He couldn't say anything that would make this end, that would allow Spencer to pull away. And he couldn't tell him anything true that would make the kid feel reassured. What would he say? It's okay because I love you? No, because that wasn't the whole truth. But add, 'Because I love you I kidnapped you twice and dragged you through hell and because I love you I am lying to you and manipulating you into being with me? Because I love you I would do anything to keep you with me'?

No. If Spencer knew how Seth really felt about him, the extent of his obsession, it would probably just scare him even more.

So he couldn't say anything true.

So he lied.

Using as much restraint as possible, he slowly brought a hand up to cup Spencer's face again, stroking his cheek. "It's okay," he promised, kissing his temple, then his hair, "I've got you. You trust me, right?"

He kissed his lips, soothingly caressed his side until he felt Spencer relax against him. The young man swallowed nervously, but then nodded. Agreeing, giving consent. Putting his trust in him like he'd said he would.

Not that it mattered. Not that Seth didn't know he was still taking something that wasn't his to take. Always the thief.

He didn't care. Not enough.

He kissed Spencer, deeper this time, and let his hand slide down to his pants again.

This time, Spencer didn't stop him.

xxx

"I didn't want to hurt you, baby 

But you're pretty when you're mine

And I can't tell where your lust ends  
And where your love begins

If you knew how much I loved you  
You would run away

I didn't want to hurt you, baby

But I'm pretty when I lie."

xxx


	20. Chapter 20

x

Wir haben keinen günstigen Wind.  
Indem wir die Richtung verlieren,  
Wissen wir doch, wo wir sind.  
Aber wir frieren.

Und die darüber erhaben sind,  
Die sollten nicht allzuviel lachen.  
Denn sie werden nicht lachen,  
Wenn sie blind Eines Morgens erwachen.

Das Schiff, auf dem ich heute bin,  
Treibt jetzt in die uferlose,In die offene See. -  
Fragt ihr: „Wohin?"  
Ich bin nur ein Matrose.

x

Seth looks up at the sound of the door opening, directing an automatic glare at whoever is about to step through. 

It's the woman. Fucking great. 

"Are you ready to talk now, Seth?" She sits down across from him, placing her bullshit file on the table between them.

"Always," he sneers, "Wanna talk about how little mommy and daddy cared and how you're trying to please them by playing cops?" 

She frowns only minimally, used to his tone by now. "You've made it clear that you don't want to talk about what happened before you escaped the bar. What about after though? There's a long time in between where you fell off the map. What were you doing, Seth?

He knows the question sounds pointless only because it is. What she really wants to know is why, and who, and when. The heist, the kidnappings, the murders. She's just looking for a new way in. Stupid cow.

"Why, sightseeing. Taking some time off by the sea, you know? Nowhere better to relax than on a boat." 

He grins. She frowns. Same old. 

"Is that so? And how relaxing was that considering you had a hostage to contain?" 

Seth's face darkens, as always when she starts talking about Spencer. He knows she just wants a reaction out of him –but it's so hard not to give her one sometimes. He looks away, keeping himself from doing or saying something he'll regret the only way he knows how: he goes to a different time and place. 

"Where did you get this?"

Seth, who had been dozing, blinked and turned his head so that it rested on the arm he had stretched out over the pillow. The room was dim and warm enough so that he had pushed the linen sheets down to his waist.

Mexico was still hotter than hell even with the winter coming.

At least now there was the ocean breeze.

It had been three days since they'd arrived at the coast and Seth had "found" a boat just for the two of them. So far, it was turning out to be one of his better ideas.

Spencer was lying next to him on his stomach, eyeing him from under sleep tousled copper curls. His fingers lightly traced the tattoo on Seth's bare arm, the touch leaving his skin tingling. Even now, with their relationship having been a physical one for weeks, it wasn't often that the young man initiated contact, and for a moment Seth was lost in the sight of the ivory colored digits on his tanned biceps. He almost didn't answer.

"Prison."

He watched Spencer carefully for any changes in his expression. The fingers on his arm stopped moving minutely, and for a moment Spencer's gaze shifted and the set of his shoulders changed minimally. There was something in his eyes, maybe, but it was gone quickly and he didn't say anything, just nodding slowly.

For a moment, Seth couldn't help but be reminded of how surreal it was, the FBI agent in his bed accepting his past without blinking. He pushed the thought aside quickly. That wasn't who they were anymore. Spencer knew that he didn't have to be afraid of Seth or his past.

He reached out to gently brush a calloused thumb over a high cheek bone, still relieved when there's wasn't the tiniest flinch. Spencer didn't move as Seth weaved a hand through his long hair, carefully separating the strands between his fingers.

"Do you want me to tell you about it?" he murmured.

"No," Spencer shook his head almost immediately, leaning into his touch with a soft sigh; his eyes fluttered closed again and his shoulders relaxed. "I just like the way it looks."

Of course he didn't want to know. Didn't want anything to burst their pretty little bubble. And Seth was perfectly content enabling his willful ignorance.

Spencer let Seth pull him close again, against his chest, resting his head on the man's shoulder. "Go back to sleep," he murmured, "or you'll miss tomorrow."

He felt Spencer's smile against his skin, "What's tomorrow?"

"Another today."

"Sounds perfect."

"Seth." 

The female agent's voice breaks through his concentration again and he snarls at her, annoyed. 

"You know I'm not supposed to offer this to you, but maybe, if you agree to cooperate fully with the Bureau, maybe you could see Spencer. Seeing as he refuses to come to your trial and certainly will not visit you in prison it might be the last chance to see him, to talk to him-"

"What have I got to tell him that he doesn't already know?" 

She can't bait him, not even with this. 

It's not only that he is sure Spencer does not want to see him, and that that is for the best. 

He's already said everything he wanted to say, he made his goodbyes when he thought he was going to die. Now all that's left to do is preserve the last perfect image he has of Spencer in his head, and focus on it, replay it over and over, until it wipes out the reality, the actual last memory of him, bloody, crying, and broken. 

If he starts now, maybe he'll manage before one of them dies. 

He closes his eyes and recalls the ocean breeze, the smell of salt, and cheap soap, and Spencer's hair. 

He next woke up to the sound of rain over his head, a chillier morning breeze coming in the open door raising goose bumps on his bare chest.

It took about two seconds of drowsiness for him to realize he was alone in the bed. He sat up, hand on the sheets next to him, feeling the warmth they still held. For a short moment he listened to the silence, old instincts keeping him from not immediately feeling on edge, nervous…

Swiftly, he got out of bed and picked his pants off the floor, resisting the urge to grab his gun.

It was safe here, alone out on the sea.

No one could come here uninvited.

No one could leave either….

Nothing to worry about.

He stepped out from under deck, finding that the sky had opened its gates and it was raining steadily, the sound of raindrops hitting the sea steady and all surrounding. Spencer was standing by the railing, also shirtless, his face turned towards the sky, his eyes closed and an expression of rapture on his face.

Seth wasn't sure for how long he just stood and stared, enthralled by the sight, torn between following the steady flow of water down ivory skin and staring at that angelic face. Eventually though he moved, walking up to stand behind the young man and carefully warp his arms around a small waist.

Spencer must have heard him, or he was simply too deep in his state of meditation to startle, because he merely smiled and let his head fall back onto Seth's shoulder. Seth pulled him closer when he felt the young man relax into him, pressing his mouth to a wet head of hair in resemblance of a kiss.

"It's raining, Spencer," he smiled.

The young man nodded, mirroring his expression. He still had his eyes closed, his expression so relaxed it was almost joyous. "It feels nice."

It did. After the oppressive heat of the last week the warm rain felt welcome and soft on his skin as well…washing away everything dirty and hurtful and dark, like a cleansing, a rebirth. He wondered of that was just him or if that was what Spencer was thinking as well.

"What are you thinking?"

Spencer turned his head, opening his eyes for the first time, hazel orbs gleaming at Seth from behind wet lashes. He looked both incredibly young and rich in years right then, and so beautiful that it almost took Seth's breath away.

"That I'm incredibly happy," he smiled almost shyly, then moved to hide his face in the crook of Seth's neck, breathing in his scent. "Is that an insane thing to say?"

"Incredibly," he didn't know why he was smiling as well, despite knowing the true gravity of his words –maybe for the same reason that all Spencer gave in response to his answer was a chuckle.

Seth pulled him in more tightly, feeling his chest swell with emotion as he stared out into the open sea. There was nothing there but water for miles and miles, no other living being. It almost felt like they were outside of time and space, safe from reality. Nothing could hurt them here, destroy them. They could finally both breathe, and sleep, and smile.

Incredibly happy sounded about right.

"You wanna know what happened?" he asks, "Simple. I fucked up. I had everything. It was perfect. And then I moved. I let reality catch up."

And catch up it did. 

He remembers it like it was yesterday. Three weeks, four days and 11 hours after the morning on the boat that he was stupid enough to leave again. 

It caught up when Joe Cabot found out he didn't bite the dust after all and decided to pay him a visit. 

It was on that day that it all went to hell.


	21. Chapter 21

Yay me, more words! And plot! Look at that! 

Thanks to those who do review! To the rest: think about it okay? I know this tends to be sorta long and eventless in between but I'd like to know I'm not just sendign words out into the ether. Thank you.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He found them in a little village near the Mexican coast.

They had left the boat a little over two weeks prior.

Spencer hadn't wanted to. He'd loved it there, with the wind and the smell of salt water, and the cries of seagulls the only sound surrounding them. Seth knew he'd felt safe there, instinctively, just like he had –no one had known where they were, no one would have been able to reach them. It had just been the two of them.

Seth liked to think that Spencer was also regretful of leaving because it meant that it was not just the two of them anymore, but that the rest of the world was around them again. Spencer didn't like the world much these days. He'd adjusted surprisingly well in a very short time, but he still got nervous and shaky around large groups of people, or loud noises, or…lots of things really that Seth wouldn't have taken for triggers until Spencer suddenly reacted badly. He tried to help avoid them, but it wasn't always easy. They had to sleep somewhere, they had to buy groceries and eat, they had to get directions. They couldn't hide forever.

They should have at least tried.

He hadn't bothered to remember the name written on the little sign as they came into town, just another insignificant dot on the map that they would pass and move on –he also didn't remember the name of the man they met in the local bar that night. He remembered his face though.

In retrospect, Seth was sure he must have been on their trial for a while. It was simply too much of a coincidence for him to show up the second they were around people for an extended amount of time again.

Seth froze when he saw him, shock going through him, his shot glass suspended in mid air. He stared over Spencer's shoulder, watched him standing by the bar and stare back, no doubt that he'd seen him as well.

Spencer was oblivious, in the middle of pulling a face at downing his second shot of whiskey. He was still not much of a drinker –that day had just been exhausting enough for him to want to take the edge off. He'd immediately agreed when Seth had suggested the small bar, a little on the dark side, but less crowded than the bigger one across the street.

Seth set his own glass down, immediately in working mode. He could feel his gun against his back, knife in his boot. He assessed the people around and their positions. Just him. No one else was even paying attention. It didn't help much with the dread that he was feeling. That man…he was one of Joe's. They'd worked together on some job years ago. He knew who he was.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

No one could know. Everyone thought he was dead.

This man, he could ruin everything. If word got out…the police would be the least of his problems. If Joe Cabot found out he was still alive…

"Seth?" he blinked, snapped out of his thoughts by Spencer who was looking at him with his brows narrowed slightly in confusion. "Everything okay?"

Seth looked at him. Spencer. Looked into his hazel eyes and saw it all falling apart. If Joe found out about this he would come for him, he would want him to come back, wouldn't send no for an answer, would send more men out if he had to…

His eyes snapped back up to the bar, panic shooting through him when he found an empty spot where the man had just been. Fuck! He was on his feet without a second's hesitance.

"Stay here," he told Spencer, not taking the time to explain when the kid blinked, confused and immediately alarmed. He knew something was up. Seth never left him alone when they were outside. But there was no time…not even time to explain, or to get him back to the motel or the car.

"Wait here for me," he insisted, gaze urgent. Spencer couldn't be put in danger, but he also couldn't be part of this. He had to keep him away at all costs, but there was no time-

"Ten minutes."

He wouldn't need much more.

With no alternative, he gave Spencer another urgent look, then hurried towards the door and outside into the dark alley.

He saw him despite his eyes struggling to adjust to the lack of light; his back was turned to him a couple of feet into the alley and away from the street. He had a phone in his hand.

No!

Seth didn't think, simply acted out of instinct. Within seconds he was back in his old persona, a knife in hand. He charged and pounced, grabbing the man and slamming him into the nearby wall so hard that his head hit the stone and he cried out in pain. He struggled but Seth held him in place forcefully, grabbing a tighter hold and slamming him into the wall again until the man dropped the phone, dazed and disoriented.

Seth didn't take the time to look at the display before he stepped on it, breaking it in half. Only then did he take the time to get in the man's face, eyes lived as he snarled, "Who did you call?! Answer me, you piece of shit!"

"No one!" the man yelled, crying out in fear and then in pain when his head collided with the wall again.

"Don't lie to me!" Seth's hand shot up to wrap around the man's throat, squeezing threateningly. He pressed the knife to the man's chest at the same time, just above his heart. "Did you call him?! What did you tell him?!"

"No-thing, no-" the man rasped struggling to breathe. "I swear, I- call didn't go through- no one knows-" He coughed, greedily sucking in air when Seth's grip finally let up slightly, shoulders sagging in relief. "I swear man, no one knows-"

"I have no way of knowing that, do I now?"

Seth stared straight ahead, eyes cold and his face dark, nothing betraying his actual conflict. Inside, he was boiling, rage, and fear, and hatred, and helplessness, all whirling around chaotically.

He didn't.

It was too late.

If he had called then…but there hadn't been much time…maybe he really hadn't gotten a chance to tell anyone…

"I swear to you, man, no one knows, and I won't tell a soul!"

Seth stared at him for another second, eyes glazed, before finally returning to a state of calm determination, "You're right. You won't."

The man didn't even have time to get out a scream before Seth moved, lightening-quick, twisting the blade of the knife and ramming it into his chest to the hilt. He held fast as the body in his grip convulsed and blood splashed on his face, chest and hands, waited for the brief struggle with death to be over. He knew from experience it wouldn't be long, especially after he pulled out the knife, giving the arterial blood room to flow…

He stood and watched as the light left the man's eyes, then let him sink down next to his destroyed phone. Relief started to spread through him at having averted the danger to his very existence- until he heard a faint gasp from behind him.

Shocked, he whirled around, knife raised, ready to deal with possible witnesses as well, much too easily slipping back into old patterns, when-

No.

Spencer.

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:D

Now how is that for plot? See why I wanted some romance, cause now it's back to drama ladies and gents. What do you think happens now? Is it just a shock or did Spencer remember? And did that call really not go through? Hehe...

Please review!


	22. Chapter 22

New chapter, thanks to new interest in the story. This is just all sorts of depressing and frustrating, jsut so you've been warned.

xxx

 

Something was wrong. 

It was obvious from the sudden tight look on Seth’s face, the set of his shoulders. 

Spencer’s body immediately reacted with a stress response, mirroring Seth’s shift in mood without being able to help it.  
“What’s wrong?” he asked, alarmed. 

A minute ago they’d been fine, exhausted but relaxed, just having a drink in some random bar in some random city. He didn’t know what day it was exactly –he rarely did now-but it had been a good one so far –not even the people around him had bothered him too much, or made him nervous the way it usually was. He’d been happy to just zone out for a while, drowsy and warm, safe in the knowledge that Seth was there with him, keeping an eye on him, that even if he were to drink too much he’d just wake up in their motel room the next morning without repercussions. 

Now though, something had suddenly changed, shifted, without him noticing until it was too late. He watched Seth adjust his position almost mechanically, a hand sliding into his suit jacket where he kept his knife as he stared over his shoulder at the bar.

“Seth?” 

Something about the older man’s expression had all sorts of alarm bells ringing in his head. And it wasn’t made better when Seth suddenly got up, telling him to stay put and wait for him.  
Spencer’s heart clenched, then started beating uncomfortably fast as he stared after him on his way out of the bar. 

What-? 

He never did that, never just left him alone…especially not in crowed places, or places where they didn’t know anyone else… Spencer felt anxiety rise within him.  
Something was definitely wrong.  
Danger. 

It had to be…Seth’s expression….it was the only thing that he could think of that would make Seth tell him to stay here instead of coming with him. But if there was danger… 

He was out of his seat almost before he’d finished that thought. It didn’t matter that he knew that Seth was very well capable of handling himself, that he wouldn’t need help or even if he did Spencer wouldn’t be the one able to give it. He had to follow him, make sure he’d be alright-

His feet weren’t listening to his brain, carrying him out of the bar in a sprint. Outside he stopped, and stared into the empty and dark street. He bit his lip anxiously, looking around. Where was he…? 

Before he had to make a random decision which direction to go in, there was a sound nearby. It came from a dark alley to his right. Spencer jumped, startled, feeling every fiber of his body rebel….against the dark, the risk of this, of being alone out here….these days, a shadow in the motel room could make him have a panic attack. It was the reason Seth never left him…never would have left unless it was something really bad. 

His fear for Seth winning out over his own fear, he didn’t walk back inside. He had to see where Seth was, if he was okay…the thought of him getting in trouble, getting hurt, it made Spencer sick to his stomach. He hurried towards the alley, rounded the corner –and felt his heart drop at the sight he was being presented with.  
Seth, pinning a stranger to the wall by his neck, with his back turned to him. 

The strange man’s face was a grimace of shock and pain as he grunted and flailed under Seth’s grip…something glinted in the dark between their bodies, metal, silver in the moonlight before black liquid began to taint it…

Blood. Spencer felt shock go through him like a flash of ice. Stabbing…Seth was-

The man coughed, dark liquid also spilling from his lips; he was gasping for air, drowning, Spencer realized. In his blood.

He was frozen, frozen even as horror began slowly sinking in as he stared at the dying man, then at Seth, his- 'Seth', his face so hard and cold, his hand so brutally unrelenting as he squeezed the man’s windpipe shut, keeping him from crying out while he slowly pulled the knife out of his chest –out of his heart- letting more blood spurt over both of them. 

There wasn’t the slightest trace of hesitation in Seth’s movement or expression, just cold determination. Spencer stared, his brain unable to combine the image in front of him with the image he had of Seth, of soft eyes and warm hands…hands that held him at night, keeping him safe, and that were now stained with blood… 

He must have made a sound, because suddenly Seth’s head snapped up and he spun around, dropping the other man’s body and bringing the bloody knife in front of him. For a second, his expression was feral, just deadly, devoid of anything human-

Spencer cringed, instinct making him stumble back a step. Fear flashed inside of him, belatedly, finally, terror that hadn’t been there seconds ago but that was suddenly all-enveloping, so raw, so sharp that it took his breath away. He choked.   
‘Blood, all that blood on his hands…dead eyes, hungry eyes…snarling, screaming, Seth-No…nononono-‘

No. Not now, not a flashback- He could hear screaming in his head, so loud that it made him want to clamp his hands over his ears. He wanted to run, to hide from it, from- But he couldn’t move, still frozen in place as red slowly began to tint his vision.  
Through the haze, he saw Seth’s expression morphing into utter shock and dismay.

“Spencer.” 

His voice shook Spencer up, sending another jolt through him. Seth.  
Seth! He wanted to call out for him, reach out…Seth…he needed him, needed him so save him from the rising tide of his own mind threatening to make him spiral into absolute panic….to save him-  
But-

He stared at the dead man, at Seth, at the knife in his hand like it was just some movie…some unrealistic horror movie that had managed to scare him anyway…Seth had just killed someone in cold blood, right before his eyes…no. He wanted to scream. No, Seth, he needed Seth to save him…to be his safe place…

‘Murderer!’

An image, dark and bright, flashed before his eyes, shaking him like a scream right next to his ear, making him flinch. Something, something terrible and dark surged in the back of his mind…rising from where it had been buried…

‘Cold, emotionless eyes, a voice that made his blood freeze in fear-‘  
Suddenly, it seemed like a multitude of sounds and impressions was raining down on him, hitting him all at once, blinding him, taking his breath away until he thought he would faint- 

Terror, bone-deep and unshakable, crawled up on him, touching him with cold tendrils, wrapping around his chest, his throat-

“Spencer.” Seth’s voice was suddenly much closer, right in front of him. 

His head snapped up and he met the older man’s wide eyes, sure that everything he felt was reflected clearly in his expression. 

“Seth-“ A choked whimper escaped him. He wanted, needed, to collapse into Seth’s arms, to seek his escape, but he couldn’t move an inch towards the man, still frozen in spot. He stared at his bloodied collar, then the knife again, shaking his head desperately. He could feel tears burning in his eyes. No, nonono- 

He barely registered it when Seth dropped the knife to the ground, hastily wiping his hands on his clothes, a panicked expression still on his face. It was only when the man’s hands closed around the sides of his face, his neck, that he came to, flinching back at the sudden contact. 

Seth’s grip tightened, not letting him go, and Spencer felt a sob escape him, staring up at the man, pleading, desperate…this couldn’t be happening….’-stop. Make it stop…God, please, I can’t take it-‘

“Seth-“ He stared at his lover pleading, praying for him to say or do something to make this go away, to make it alright, to make this stop…but he knew there wasn’t anything, not this time-  
The hands –bloodied- on his face kept stroking his cheeks, his hair, in attempt to soothe, all the while shaking and dirtied.

“Spencer….Spencer…fuck- it’s okay, it’s okay, baby- look at me, you’re okay-” 

Seth kept repeating his name, in a tone that he thought was probably heart wrenching…he heard it as though through cotton, drowned out by his racing heart pumping blood through his ears. It wasn’t the shock of this alone he knew…he’d known Seth wasn’t a good person…The way he was reacting, a full-blown panic attack, the flashbacks…this had triggered….something-  
His vision was still filling with red where the black spots weren’t. He couldn’t stop it.  
‘The flash of a knife…blood all over his hands…black eyes that weren’t Seth’s….another man’s eyes filled with terror and pain, staring at him as blood filled his vision… “Reid…tell…tell Hayley-‘“

He gasped. The images had him swaying, his legs feeling like they might buckle underneath him. Seth’s grip on him tightened, his impossibly strong hands moving to grab him under one arm and around the waist. Seth pulled him in more tightly, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s okay…it’s okay-” 

His voice was fading, the cold, the world around him fading. He blinked, images tearing through the red, dark…a tunnel….tiles…a bathroom…water hitting his face, running down his cheeks like hot tears… there were arms holding him up, running over his shoulders. Someone yelling his name. He blinked again, catching the sight of reddened water vanishing in the drain beneath his feet.  
Blood, blood, blood. His blood. Their blood. Staining him, marking him. Their deaths on him-

He gasped, his head snapping up to find black eyes staring into his. Seth. Two images melted into one in front of his inner eye, the newfound memory combining with the real man in front of him. He looked at him, suddenly completely lucid, and saw, actually 'saw' Seth, for the first time in weeks.


	23. Chapter 23

So...it's been a while. I moved again. Back in good ole Europe now. And well, without Hollywood to distract me I found the time to write some more for this. No one seemed to miss the story much but then, I kinda did and I guess that has to be enough.

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Seth's thoughts were racing. His whole evening had gone to shit so quickly he'd barely even had time to blink.

Half an hour ago hed been fine, more relaxed and content than he'd been in a long time. Now he had a dead man in a back alley he needed to get rid of and a possibly equally fatal phone call to deal with -two things alone that would have been enough for any man in his situation to lose it.

As it was though, he couldn't even really think about either because all his mind could focus on was Spencer.

The shock of realizing the young man had caught him red handed had quickly been replaced with dread at his reaction. It had been like a punch to the gut to see the dawning horror on the kid's face as he looked over him, the blood, the corpse.

Not that it should have been surprising -how else would someone react to seeing a murder? Especially committed by someone close to them. He'd always known that Spencer might think he understood and accepted his dark side but that he really didn't -that a big part of it was him fooling himself just so he wouldn't have to leave Seth.

He'd also known how much effort – effort to the point of active denial- that must have taken considering their circumstances, considering how Spencer was after what had happened to him and what he had then seen of Seth. He'd known that there would come another breakdown, that Spencer's defenses were already so cracked that it would take but the tiniest thoughtless tap to shatter them again.

This, obviously, was a massive fucking blow.

'No!' He felt sick at the sight of the expression on Spencer's face. No...

It had all been fine...they'd come so close to being alright-

But looking at Spencer now he could practically see it all falling apart.

He could see the shock, and worse fear, along with a pleading look he knew all too well; Spencer was torn between running to him like he always did when he got scared and running from him.

No!

He moved before he could think his actions through, running up to Spencer and grabbing him, not sure if he meant to keep him from falling or running-

It was like a punch to the gut when Spencer flinched at his touch, pulling away, more fear flashing across his face.

Seth winced but didn't let go,...he couldn't...he barely got himself to adjust his grip, to retain some semblance of superficial calm.

"Fuck... Spencer, look at me..." he barely paid mind to what he was saying, internally terrified as he stroked his hair and face in an attempt to soothe, to prevent what he knew had already happened. "Hey," he forced the smile that he'd used to do so well in the past, that had once been charming and confident and that was strained at best now, "Everything's okay. I know it looks bad but I-"

He broke off when he realized Spencer wasn't reacting. Instead of struggling against his grip he just stood frozen now, just as frozen and absent as his gaze. His only movement was the shaking under Seth's hands, the shallow breaths...His face was chalk white and his eyes half still filled with terror, half glassy as though he was in trance or shock.

Seth cursed internally, about to try again to shake him out of it when he heard a single word that caused his heart to drop into his stomach.

"Hotch..."

xxx

It was all coming back to him, like a wave of ice cold water washing over him and filling his lungs, taking his breath away. Images were flashing before his eyes, memories of sensation making him shudder, and screams filling his ears.

Hotch...Aaron Hotchner...kneeling in front of him, his face ashen and his grip on Spencer's wrist like iron. There was blood on both of them, spilling from the wound of the knife that Spencer had just rammed into the man's heart...

'Tell Haley...and Jack-'

"No, Hotch, no, please-"

Right through the heart. He swayed. The image of Seth stabbing that stranger was overlapping with that of him doing the same, same pain, same sight of blood...the memory flash was so bright and clear, like lightening.

And it didn't stop there.

The grip Seth had on him, which he'd barely been able to feel through his shock until now, it suddenly felt all too acute...he gasped at the returning sensation of Hotch's desperate grip on his wrist...then the sensation of clawed hands around his neck, cutting of his air...terrifying, yellow eyes staring at him, coming closer until...until he suddenly felt the gun in his hands, cold and slick and heavy, and he was firing it and there was shrieking and then the eyes were gone but he was still shooting-

"Spencer!" Seth, only slightly more real than is sudden memories suddenly shook him hard enough to make his neck crack. Spencer blinked, finding the man's eyes wide and scared.

Their sight triggered another stream of images. Seth, face covered in dirt and blood, water streaming down his temples as he held him, looking scared just like now. 'Kid, are you hurt? Talk to me, Reid! Did they get you?' 

Underground. The sound of water, of screams still echoing in his ears. He'd been crying, crying...pain in his chest that had almost ripped him apart. Dead, all of them dead...his fault...Seth's fault...his-

"I killed..." his voice was breaking, he couldn't even tell Seth what was wrong. But Seth knew...knew anyway, didn't he? He'd been there...he hadn't told him...

"I killed...Hotch." The name, a name that Seth had mentioned long ago but that had meant nothing to him then, suddenly it came back, stringing along another set of impressions.

Hotch. His-

He had murdered his friend...more than that-

"No. No, kid, look at me! Focus, okay? Come back, don't think-"

But Spencer couldn't have listened to him had he wanted to.

He was a killer. Seth was a killer. They-

Was that what had happened the night he'd lost his memory?

With his thoughts racing as they were, he barely registered when there was sound outside of his head, a sound that neither of them had made, that didn't belong. Seth, however, spun around, an expression of alarm on his face as he looked towards the street, to where the bar's door was. His grip on Spencer tightened.

"We need to get out of here."

It wasn't a question.

Seth took over...like he always did...like he had in that fateful night? There was no time for second guessing, no wondering, no doubt. Before Spencer could do anything, Seth was already pulling him along, all but dragging him through the shades, away from the body, away from anyone who might follow them-

'They were running, the hellish sounds of the creatures chasing them echoing off the damp stone walls. Panic was cutting off his oxygen, he could barely feel his legs as he stumbled after Seth. They were going to die...die like Richie had just died...torn apart...He knew it. Seth knew it, too. It was all over his face, all that pain and fright and regret...so much of it as he gazed down at him...

'You know what? I'm going to hell anyway.''

A kiss...their first...just as unexpected and inappropriate as every other aspect of their relationship...and then...

They weren't alone anymore. His friends were there. 

Until they weren't. 

It seemed like a dam had broken. Everything was coming back now, everything...Quantico, his family...the prison...seeing into those black eyes for the first time...the bank, Morgan MORGAN!Blood, blood, and more blood. Seth and Richie. Vampires. Then Elle...shot by Gideon...oh GIDEON...and Hotch...Hotch, dying because of him...pleading with him to pass on a message to his son and wife before he- 

Dead, all dead because of him...his fault...he'd been sure he would never stop crying, that his heart would stop, his brain would explode from all the pain and guilt once he was all alone, how hed wished it could all just go away, that eh could forget...

There was the sudden sound of a door slamming shut right next to his ear and it snapped him out of his thoughts. He blinked, not surprised to find tears blurring his vision. The alley was gone, he was in a hotel room -their hotel room- it was dark, the only light coming from the street, and they were alone. Seth was running in and out of the room, checking for something-

He stopped when Spencer made a sound, unable to hold in everything he was feeling any longer. Spencer stared at him, wide eyed, his heart racing. He felt sick, so sick...

"I remember," he whispered, choking on the words. Seth's expression twisted, his fists clenching by his sides. He seemed frozen on the spot for a second. Spencer wanted to say more, but he couldn't, physically couldn't...his brain was too occupied to control his body. He wanted to scream, to cry, to thrash, to hole up, torn between sudden bouts of pain and guilt and grief...but also fear...true terror...the memory of monsters...of vampires...

He could feel himself shaking uncontrollably; it was a mystery to him how he was still standing.

"Spencer..." Seth walked up to him, slowly, like he was approaching a frightened animal, a multitude of emotions still in his eyes and on his face that Spencer couldn't focus on through his tears. Cool hands touched his shoulder, then slowly, moved up to his neck...careful, a slight tremble in those fingers as they pulled him in...

The mere touch tore another sob out of Spencer...Seth's warmth, his solid presence, his hand in his hair, it was like a physical relief, like a lifeline, a speck of light in the darkness that was quickly pulling him under...for a mere second, he was more grateful than he had ever been to have the other man there to help him, to take on his fear...a mere second.

And then he blinked.

Hard, cold eyes...much too close, a punishing grip on his hair, tearing. 

'You do what I say when I say it. Because if you don't, if you try to run, or get help, or if you keep trying to play me with that reverse psychology shit, I will kill her. Do you understand?'

A hand wrapped around his throat, cutting off his air, a knife pressed to his cheek...

'...cut up your face...can die this second, I don't give a fuck...'

He gasped. Eyes widening in horror as he stared into Seth's eyes, the last missing pieces finally falling into place, filling his minds and clashing with his new memories, his new life...

Seth. Seth-

"No..." He flinched, suddenly horrified by the feeling of Seth touching him. Seth who was everything to him, his life, his happiness, Seth whom he trusted with his life, whom he l-

Seth who had hurt him, hurt, him, hurt him...over and over in more ways than he would have thought humanly possible...who had destroyed him. Who had lied to him this whole time.

"No!"

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Not a lot of action, I know. Next time though :)

Please review if you're still with me!


	24. Chapter 24

Hey everybody :) Thanks for reviewing the last chapter! I'm glad people are still reading :))

Now on to the Drama...

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x

Spencer was shaking as he backed away from Seth, tears magnifying the pain in his eyes.

As if everything, every horrible thing that he had just remembered and been forced to relive, every heart-wrenching realization about his past wasn't enough - the last one was cutting deeper than he could have ever been prepared for.

„You-" He couldn't speak, his voice breaking.

Seth.

How could he have ever forgotten? The prison. The brothers. The bank. All those horrors and deaths...all set in motion by one man. Seth Gecko.

Criminal. Killer. Liar.

"Seth."

The realization of the truth hit him in the face like a bucket of ice water.

Seth...the man he had spent every minute of the past weeks with, shared his life with, slept next to...wasn't a loved one, not even a friend. He never had been. He was the reason...for everything that was wrong in his life. The amnesia, the nightmares, the PTSD.

Seth. Seth. Seth. Terrible images returning...

Seth, shoving a gun under his chin...eyes like ice as he aimed a gun at a bleeding Morgan, at a helpless Hazel, Seth, pressing a gun to his face, threatening to kill him. Seth, who had almost let his psycho brother kill him, who had dragged him through a mental and physical hell at the end of which he'd been left standing, half crazed, among the carcasses of real life monsters and the corpses of his friends, his family..

Spencer pressed a shaking hand to his mouth, horrified when it all started making sense.

The same image that had come to him weeks ago in Carlos' house flashed across his mind again, this time with cruel clarity.

The fight, the monsters, the bathroom.

The water that couldn't even begin to wash away all the bone deep pain, the blood that seemed to cover every inch of his skin, and then...the hands on him that were too rough, too restraining, like always...hands that he wished would just let go of him already but that were the only thing holding him up, that he couldn't fight...

He had been in no condition to fight for control, for anything...too far gone to think clearly at all, merely instinct driving him to want to escape the pain-

And Seth had-

Oh God, he had...

„You...you ju-" he still couldn't bring himself to form a full sentence, too afraid that if he tried he would scream, or worse. The enormity of what had happened was taking his words.

He'd wanted to just let it all go, to forget, to not have to go on...and Seth had-

The pang of guilt and realization in Seth's dark eyes would have been enough for him to know he was right if he hadn't already.

He should be dead. He had wanted to be dead.

But he wasn't. He was here... instead of lying dead and buried in the desert where he belonged, he was with Seth...Seth who had lied and lied and lied, had gotten him to stay, to believe his words, to trust and l-

„Oh go..." The terror of realizing who Seth was began to mix with the devastation of realizing who he wasn't.

It was like whatever was left of his heart was breaking for the second time. Breaking for what he'd thought he had, desiccated by something vile and poisonous...the person he thought he cared for, loved even maybe- that person didn't exist.

Because how could his Seth...gentle, caring, loving, supporting Seth...how could be be that, have done, known-? How could he have done that to him, and then pretend like he cared, like it wasn't his fault...how could he have held him and soothed away his fears, knowing what he'd done to him?

He could feel himself shaking even worse, tears running down his cheeks and blurring his view.

No, no, no!

Everything Seth had told him, all lies...every time he'd held him...under that caring mask he'd still been that same man, that criminal, that killer-

"Spencer-" Seth reached for him again, this time moving too fast for the crying man to avoid his grip. Spencer flinched, trying to pull away but Seth held on to his wrists tightly, fighting for words it seemed, "Spencer, I-"

"N-no-" Spencer interrupted. He tried to pull away futily, feeling Seth's fingers burning him, terribly in it's false familiarity, at the same time reminding him of lying soft caresses but also brutal, frightening touches. "Don't-"

That man he'd been so afraid of, with the same hands, the same face...but that hadn't been his Seth.

Except it had.

He couldn't keep from sobbing. Why? Why had he-? Why hadn't he just let him die after destroying his life? Why had he pretended-?

He stared at the man he'd thought he knew wild eyed, more memories hitting him.

~'A tight grip in his hair, keeping his head tilted up, inescapable. Seth's breath, hot and much too close, hitting the skin of his throat. A rough thumb tracing his hip bone, causing his breaths to come too fast, too flat... "You know what I want? I want to hold you just like this, closer, tighter, and not let go. I want to take you away from your friends, make you stay with me and only me, so you can never leave…to keep you locked up somewhere until you forget that you hate me, that you ever wanted to leave…until I'm the only one left, until you forget everything else, until you stop fighting…until you need all of it, need me. Until you want me back…"'~

Spencer shuddered, unable to keep a tortured moan from escaping his lips.

That one terrifying, eye opening moment. Only then, far too late had he understood what motivated Seth, that he was obsessed with far more than just getting his brother out of the police's reach. He'd barely been able to comprehend his confession...much less think that Seth could actually mean the insane things he was saying, not after everything that had happened between them. There hadn't been time to think about it afterwards...they had been too busy fighting for their lives.

He'd understood that Seth was attracted to him, had made use of that to deal with his pain after all...but this...this degree of obsession...taking him away, and making him stay with lies over lies, putting him back together...but wrong, adding his own tainted touch to everything, every aspect of him...until he was this, this-

Oh, God.

"Y-You're insane-"

Seth was worse than Spencer had ever thought; not just a brutal killer but out of his mind in his obsession. It was in that moment that dread and fear won out over pain and confusion. Seth wasn't what he'd thought -not even the Seth he had forgotten. He was suddenly terrified more than anything else. He'd thought Seth capable of a lot of things, had rightfully been afraid during their first days together. Violence, short temper, murder even...but this? To go to this extent to get what he wanted...?

His eyes flickered from Seth's collar, blood stained from earlier, to his hands -just as tainted- that were still keeping him trapped. His pulse skyrocketed, pain forgotten as fear won out.

"Let me go!" He had to get away, away from Seth. He tore at the grip on his wrists, desperate to wrench himself free. "Let go!"

"Spencer," Seth made no move to let up; on the contrary, "You have to listen to me, you don't understand-"

"No!" He didn't listen, kept struggling. There was nothing that could have explained this, no indication even that Seth would really try...considering everything he'd done: who was to say Seth would actually care to hear in how many ways this was tearing him to pieces. He wasn't his lover- they weren't anything. Everything he come to rely on, to trust in was a lie. He had already suffered and cried and broken down once before and Seth hadn't cared...obsessed or whatever...he had just taken what he wanted, even aided by Spencer's complete breakdown.

Did it even matter that he had remembered? Would it even mean more to this man than just an inconvenience in form of Spencer changing his behavior, being harder to control? He wouldn't let this...this glitch in his plan destroy everything he'd achieved...

"Let go, let me-"

"Spencer, stop! Calm down," Seth's hands left his wrists, wrapping around his face too quickly for him too see it coming through a veil of tears. "Let me fix this, I-"

That was the last straw; the combination of those hands so close to his neck and those words, remembering how Seth fixed things-

It was too much.

xxx

Seth didn't know what to do, speechless in this terrible situation.

Spencer was falling apart right in front of him. It was becoming more and more obvious that he remembered everything now, not just figments. His old life, his job, the vampires...and their relationship before, what had happened between them.

It tore at his heart to see the absolute pain and betrayal in the younger man's eyes, the desperate tears that he knew were not just a reaction to remembering all of his losses but also the very specific loss of his faith in Seth.

He tried, began to try to explain that he was sorry, that he'd seen no other way, that he knew it was his fault, that he hadn't wanted to hurt him with that.

Spencer clearly wasn't listening to him though, still shaking his head with tears in his eyes, shaking as he slowly backed away from him. Seth reached for him to stop him, to make him listen, but the words got lost when the kid flinched from him like he'd been burned, another emotion suddenly surfacing on his face, dawning next to hurt and devastation.

Fear.

Not fear like before, due to the situation, or the dead man, not even the trauma he'd been force to remember. No, fear of him.

Seth drew in a sharp breath, his heart clenching in his chest when Spencer's wide eyes suddenly looked at him in a whole different way.

It had been like a punch to the gut to see that familiar, trusting look fade back to one close to how Spencer had looked at him before his amnesia. He'd not been surprised at the anger, or even disdain though. He knew he deserved that...

But to be afraid of him? Didn't Spencer know he would never-?

"Baby-"

He instinctively pulled him in closer, reached out to touch Spencer's cheek -but before he could say anything else Spencer suddenly kicked his shin so hard that he staggered, tearing himself away from him and bolting.

By the time Seth had straightened up, cursing in pain, he'd already dashed into the bathroom. Seth ran after him but only got another glance at a white face and wide eyes before the door slammed shut and was locked from inside.

"Spencer!" He grabbed the doorknob, shaking it, "Open the door!"

He yanked at the door, harder than he probably should have, but too upset to think clearly. "Spencer!"

He needed to get to the younger man, explain to him...he didn't know what he wanted to say, or could say really, but they needed to talk this out. Spencer was right to be angry and upset and shocked, to feel betrayed. But he'd looked scared...

'No...'

Seth knew he had done some horrible things in the past, to Spencer and in general.

But that was the past. It was all different now. They were together, they had a completely different level of trust now, of intimacy. Spencer knew him, how he could be, now, he knew how it was between them, how it should have been all along.

He would understand in time how sorry Seth was about the lying, but why he'd done it...maybe not forgive him fully, but understand.

Right?

He knew that the Seth who had hurt him, and threatened him, didn't exist anymore, and that he had never wanted to do any of that in the first place -after all he'd seen how he had been in the past weeks. He knew.

Seth stared at the locked bathroom door.

Didn't he?

xxxx

Slow, slow progress :S 

So, kinda sad, huh? I hope it made sense, their reactions. What do you think should happen now? What could Seth do/say to fix this? Or can't he? Suggestions? :)

Please review!


	25. Chapter 25

Flashback:

.

Across the table, Emily looks at him with a mix of pity and frustration. Reid can barely focus on her anymore. He's exhausted after hours and hours of pointless questions and not sleeping.

"Where did you get those then, if Seth didn't hurt you like you said?" she asks darkly.

He doesn't have to look up to know she means the scars. The scars from that night; the second most horrible night of his life. He closes his eyes, unwilling to be reminded of that part of his past even if in a way, it is fresher on his mind now than ever.

"I never said he didn't hurt me," he says quietly, with forced detachment.

Amazing how these smart people can get so many things wrong just because they let their emotions cloud their judgment.

"But you told Rossi-" Emily starts to protest, but then falls silent. She has probably looked over the statement in her folder again and realized what exactly it entails. "Oh."

He still can't get himself to look at her when he nods, afraid that his composure will crumble after all if he does. That night seems like so long ago in a way, but in his heart it might as well have been yesterday.

"Seth hurt me...worse...and in more ways than I ever would have thought possible. I didn't tell Rossi because he didn't ask that."

There is silence for along time. Maybe she doesn't know what to do with his sudden openness.

"I'm sorry," she says eventually and he believes her. Not that it helps anyone.

"So am I," he muses, absently running his fingertips of the physical reminders of passed trauma that are permanently etched into his skin, "So is Seth. But that doesn't make these go away, does it?"

xxx

He didn't know how long he'd just sat there, his back against the locked bathroom door.

It could have been hours that he spent between episodes of violent, shaking sobs and cold, numb stupor, always with the sound of screams and blood rushing in his ears. He couldn't see, tears as well as memories blurring his view of the present.

There was no way to filter the assault of horridly realistic flashbacks, the images, the sounds, the realizations, the grief and anguish that came with it.

The monsters, that horrible night... Elle, Gideon, Hotch, dead, their empty eyes staring at him accusingly even now in his mind. He could still hear his own screams and pleas as he tried to save them-

It was like every emotion that he had not dealt with due to his amnesia was trying to by processed at the same time now. He was back in that underground bathroom all over again, for the first time actually mourning the loss of his closest friends, feeling the true imprint of the trauma that had merely lurked in his dreams for the passed weeks.

Dead. His family, dead because of him...he'd killed Hotch with his own hands, the others were his fault too...

And he had just gone on living, had just forgotten about them. He hadn't even passed on Hotch's message to his wife and son. No, he'd been too busy shacking up with the very man who-

He pressed a hand to his lips to keep from retching again; his stomach was still churning from the last time he'd let his thoughts wander too close to him.

The worst of all was that he couldn't even properly mourn his friends, even now. Not when at least half of his brain was busy processing the pain caused by thinking about Seth. Not when what was left of his heart was breaking for the very person responsible for all of this.

The mere thought made him sick, made him want to hit his head into the wall until it all went away.

How could he be crying over Seth?

The man who had started it all, who had gotten them to that bar, gotten his friends killed, gotten Spencer to a point where his life was in shambles...only to then-

He couldn't even think any further in his mind, too horrified and sickened by his new reality. To think that he had fallen for the lies of a deranged serial killer responsible for the destruction of everything he'd held dear, that he had given him his trust, his life, his everything...

All while Seth knew about what had happened but didn't say a word, instead taking all he'd had left as well. Taking his chance to heal, to go home to his remaining friends and his mother, to his life.

Even now he could hardly wrap his mind around what he knew had happened. He knew Seth was a criminal with questionable morals, but this-?

He had no idea why Seth had done it. Maybe he just hadn't wanted to be alone after losing Richie, maybe -he cringed internally- maybe he'd gotten some sick sort of kick out of screwing an FBI agent, or maybe it really was some sort of obsession with him that he had failed to pick up on before.

It didn't matter. All of those reasons were criminally insane. None of them made what had happened any less horrible or painful.

There had been a time when he would have found Seth redeemable despite everything he'd done. He remembered how, back in those first days, he had come to think he understood the man's motives; he had even sympathized with him, felt pity for him.

But not anymore, not after this.

For whatever reason Seth had done it, it had been for no one but himself. For that he had deliberately manipulated him, let him think he was all alone, that he had no one else but Seth...pretended like he was a friend, no, a loved one...pretended like he wasn't demanding things, taking things that Spencer never would have given had he known-

He would have never thought Seth capable of that, not even in their darkest hour.

He buried his face in his knees, unable to stop sobbing. Sick, he felt so, so sick...

Seth had always known. When he asked him to stay. When he implied they were together. During their first kiss. When they were-

Every memory he had of them was tainted by this. Every smile, every touch...

It was finally too much. Feeling his stomach revolt, Spencer made it to the toilet just in time to empty his stomach into it. He was left on his knees, shaking and struggling to find his breath, on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Oh, God, no, no no-"

To think that he had given himself to the very person responsible for all of this...that he had let himself build his life around that person, depended on him, loved him!

He couldn't even deny it.

He loved Seth. At least the man he thought Seth was. Not the killer, not the liar.

But there wasn't another Seth, was there?

No, there was just Seth.

Seth, who certainly didn't love him. He didn't even want to think about what was going on in that man's brain but he knew without a doubt that whatever the man thought he felt for him -if there was anything- it wasn't love. Not the kind he could ever want at least.

And still he was sitting here, unable to even pretend that he wasn't crying over his loss as much as the loss of his team. It was almost laughable, so tragic was it. Seth had successfully wormed his way into his heart, only to then tear it out and rip it to shreds.

Why? He knew there was probably no point in asking, no sane answer but still... Why? Why him? Hadn't he gone through enough? Why couldn't Seth just have taken the money and let him go, why-?

"I couldn't leave you there, Spencer."

Spencer flinched, only then remembering that Seth was on the other side of the door still, and realizing that he must have spoken out loud.

"I couldn't bring you to the police...but you would have died if I had left you there in the desert. I didn't do it to hurt you, I just-"

Lies over lies. Even now.

Spencer would have laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of that statement if the mere sound of Seth's voice hadn't felt like someone was twisting a knife in his sore wounds. How deranged did this man have to be, to think that Spencer would believe that that had been his reason...how deranged did he have to be to think that anything he said would make him feel better?

"You should have let me die," he whispered tonelessly, not caring if Seth could hear.

It was true. He would have preferred it. He had wanted to die after that night...but Seth had taken even that from him, hadn't he?

Spencer ground his teeth, eyes pressed shut tightly. He wanted to get up and throw open that door, to punch Seth and hurt him, and scream at him, and count all the ways in which he wasn't deserving of being called a human being -he wanted to so badly.

Almost as badly as he wanted to go out there and throw himself into Seth's arms and beg him to make it all go away.

The thought was terrifying, freezing him into place.

No! No, he wouldn't! Never again. He would never betray himself and his team like that again.

But what could he do?

Even if his own heart wasn't working against him, yearning for Seth -would Seth let him leave? God, the man had gone through all this trouble to keep him by his side so far...who was to say he wouldn't just do it again, that he wouldn't make Spencer stay until he just gave in again, until-

No. Never. He would never forget again, never lose himself like that again.

He would never go back to that.

But he also couldn't go forward. Even if Seth let him leave, he didn't know of he would be able to leave him -as pathetic as it was- but even if he did, were was he to go?

Back to the team to tell them how he was alive and the others weren't? Why he hadn't come back before? Live with this guilt and shame and agony? No. No.

There was only one logical option for him.

Weakly, Spencer got up, struggling to keep his legs under him. He walked over to the cabinet over the sink. His hands were shaking as he lifted the shaving kit that lay there, pulling out one of the razor blades in it. It glinted in the harsh light of the mirror, like it was winking at him, laughing.

He stared at it, not feeling anything but a faint sense of relief at the promise it gave.

"I'm so sorry," he closed his eyes, one last tear running over his pale cheek.

Not sorry for himself no, just the people he'd let down and caused pain. This wouldn't make up for that but it would keep him from any further indignity.

His time had been up that one dark night in the Mexican desert anyway. He'd felt it then. The only reason he wasn't dead was because of Seth's selfish meddling.

Nothing that had come after that night should have ever happened. Nothing that had made him feel like it was worth living after that had been real.

He hissed at the sharp sting when he dug the blade into the skin above his left wrist, where he knew the main artery was the most easily damaged. It hurt worse than he would have expected and he blacked out briefly with the second deep cut. He found himself on the floor, his legs having given in, but he didn't care, just stayed there, numbly watching the floor around him turn red with his own blood.

'Mom, Derek, J.J, Jake. I'm sorry. This is the best I can do.'

He let his eyes flutter shut when the world around him started to turn dark, his body beginning to feel numb. He could still hear Seth calling his name from outside the door. It was a relief when the sound began to fade as well with his slipping consciousness, fade along with the pain.

It was too late for him to hear the door burst open minutes later, or to hear the panicked curses, or feel the hands grasping his cold skin, the arms hoisting him up. It was too late for everything.

Xxx


	26. Chapter 26

So I found this among my notes for a Women's Studies class I took last semester. It's not written by me so it's not an actual update but I think it relates very well to the story, so yes, here you have it, hope you enjoy.

About an actual update, I don't have much yet, sorry. I mentioned before that's it's kind of frustrating to feel like not many people even care to read this anymore. I really dont want to be annoying or ungrateful to the people who do give me feedback -I am not purposefully drawing anything out here, I am just lacking the motivation to keep writing like this.

I'm hoping it'll come back because this story is so important to me. It feels like maybe I've drawn it out too much, don't have enough action and that's why people have lost interest...but well, too late to change that now. There was just so much I wanted to write about that felt important to the story's development, but maybe that's not what people want. 

Anyway, enough whining. I do hope you will like this extract from Rebecca Brown's short Story "Forgiveness". It's one of my favorites and it is the general direction I want to go with the story. Just don't quite know how yet.

xxx

"Forgiveness"

You told me you had grown.

You told me how much you had learned about the world, about yourself, about honor, faith and trust, etc. You looked deep into my eyes and said, I've changed. You said how good and strong and true and truly different you were. How you had learned that it is not our acts, but our intents, that make us who we are.

I closed my eyes and couldn't open them. My mouth was closed. I couldn't tell you anything.  
I couldn't tell you that you can't re-do a thing that's been undone. I couldn't tell you anything that you would understand. I couldn't tell you that it wasn't just the fact that you had ripped it out of me and taken it and mounted it, then left with it then lost it, how it wasn't only that, but it was more. How it was that when you asked me, I believed you and I told you yes. How, though I had tried a long time to replace what you had hacked away from me, I never could undo the action of your doing so, that I had, and only ever would have, more belief in your faulty memory, your stupid sloppy foresight, than in your claims of change. How I believed, yes, I believed with all my heart, that given time, you'd do something else again.

And then I thought, but this was only half a thought, that even if you had changed, no really really changed, truly and at last, and even if you knew me better than I know myself, and even if I'm better off than I've ever been, and even if this was the only way we could have gotten to this special place where we are now, and even if there's a reason, darling, something bigger than both of us, and even if all these even ifs are true, that I would never believe you again, never forget what I know of you, never forget what you've done to me, what you will do, I'll never believe the myth of forgiveness between us.


	27. Chapter 27

xxx

The blissful void didn’t last. 

Spencer came to slowly, his eyelids leaden and his arms aching. 

With a pained moan he shifted to escape the sensation -or tried to at least. The pain only intensified, a brutal sting that went through his whole body as metal dug into his left wrist, cold and unrelenting.   
Spencer's eyes snapped open, drowsiness cut in half in an instant. Handcuffs...around a bed frame. The motel bed...

Their motel room.

...Seth. 

No-

He gasped for air like a drowning man, feeling the waves of anguish and terror he'd so desperately tried to escape wash over him yet again and leaving him shaking. The past, all of it, every gruesome, shattering detail...the horrible, horrible present...

No. No, no-

Without thinking, he began to struggle to get free, clawing at the restraint with his free hand, but his whole body felt just as heavy as his eyelids, making every movement a great effort, leaving him with cold sweat on his forehead and his pulse rushing in his ears, chased by a frantic heartbeat. 

Breathing hard, he pressed his eyes shut, trying to force himself to still, to think...to not give in to his overwhelming emotions but- it hurt, everything hurt...he felt like he was being crushed-

“No,” he could feel the metal tearing at his skin but didn't care, “no, no, nonono-”

“Don't.” Steps, then the mattress dipped by his hip and there were hands on him, stilling his trembling arms. “You'll rip the bandages.”

The voice went through him like a knife.

Through the black spots dancing in front of his eyes, Spencer stared up at Seth Gecko, into eyes that had once meant his world and that were now burning him like hot iron. 

A mere second he was frozen- then instinct kicked in and he reared back, thrashing to get out of the man's grip, to get away, another string of sounds gushing from his throat.  
NO! It was all he could think, all that comprised him at that moment, his whole being a single guttural scream. 

It was no use. Of course not, he knew as much and yet he fought with all his strength anyway.

Seth leaned over him, solid as a wall, gripping his hands more tightly and pushing them down, making him feel even more trapped- 

“Spencer-”

It was too much, enough to snap his last bit of control. He fought, fought desperately, trying to shake off the feeling of being suffocated, crushed, fought against the sobs trying to claw their way out of his throat, against the panic that threatened to swallow him whole....

No. He'd been so, so afraid of this- of Seth not letting him go, tearing him back into this hell- forcing his presence on him, a scorching reminder of his agony.  
He'd tried so hard to get away, to make things right, to make the pain stop, to get away- 

Seth's hand on his skin felt like a branding iron, searing pain down to his bone...

“Let go,” he wheezed, the world around him a blur, “let go, let me-”

Seth didn't move a finger.

His hands stayed in place, keeping Spencer's bandages in place and him from ripping open his slashed wrists, protecting him, like the cruelest of jokes.

...

He didn't know how long it was until the world around him regained any form.   
Through screams and crying, his own or that out of memories he couldn’t tell anymore- he thought he heard another voice, talking, calming words...so far removed, so insignificant. 

'-let it out...alright...understand...just breathe...focus...here...'

It did nothing to bring him relief, to ease the drive to get away from it all, from the memories, from his touch.

In the end, the only reason he finally stilled was because his body had no more energy left to obey his mind. He ended up lying there, trembling and aching, his throat sore, still trapped, trying hard to catch his breath...eyes pressed shut he did the only thing he could, trying to block out the metal, and Seth's hands, and everything. 

Breathing in and out sharply, he fought for any kind of mental shield to put up, fought to shut it all out...

But he couldn't. He was just too exhausted, too broken...he couldn’t get away, even mentally...couldn’t even shut out the pain, the panic-

“Take them off,” he choked out, hating the way his voice sounded desperate, pleading, “take- stop it, just-”

Tears were blurring his sight but he refused to let them fall. Not that Seth wouldn’t see anyway. Not that it would matter to him...after how much crying Spencer had done in the past.  
“I can't do that.” Seth's voice sounded almost regretful from above him, for a moment so soft, so familiar that they almost managed to belie his words' meaning. He actually sounded sorry. Spencer wanted laugh at that. For all he knew, somewhere in that man's warped brain he was, and thought that it mattered.   
Calloused fingers trailed over the inside of Spencer's wrist briefly -lightly- Spencer pulled away and their grip tightened. Seth drew in a breath, his fingers flexing tensely. 

“I know I pushed you, Spencer, and shocked you...that it was hard, remembering...” his voice was losing the pseudo-soothing tone it had had until then, anger slowly bleeding through, “But how could you- You tried to fuckin-” 

For a moment Spencer thought he hadn’t heard right, so shocked that he almost snapped out of his ever building panic attack. Had he just-? Was Seth actually angry at him for-? He choked on a laugh, aware that it sounded more like a sob. Insane...the man was insane...he was just going on like nothing had changed...like he wasn’t the villain, clear for everyone to see.

“I broke down the door. A minute longer...and you would have bled out.” 

Spencer stared at a point on the wall, not reacting outwardly. On the inside, he could feel nothing but cold disappointment. Just one more minute...he'd come so close to escaping...

Strong fingers suddenly gripped his jaw, forcing his face around. 

“Bled out!” Seth repeated the words, close to yelling. His eyes were blazing, his expression now nothing but a porous mask atop the storm brewing underneath.   
Spencer breathed in sharply, immediately trying to pull away but Seth stilled him, making him look.

It was like a punch to the gut, breaking through any shred of control he'd been trying so desperately to reassemble over the past minutes. Seth's eyes were no different than any other time he'd looked at him, deep and rich and full of emotion. Anger, yes, but also betrayal, and regret, and fear, and helplessness, and pain -sharp and real and devastating. 

Spencer felt his chest constrict, in that moment torn between two very clear reactions. Breaking down in tears at the sight of his last beloved ghost -or feeling furious himself.

For the purpose of self-preservation, he chose the letter.

Those emotions...they were his to feel. His. He was the one betrayed, the one whose heart had been crushed, who'd lost everything. Not Seth. How dare he- look at him like that? How dare he throw what he'd had to do in his face, like he had any right to his anger, like it wasn't all his fault- 

He didn't try to fight the rage welling up inside him for a second, latching onto it like a lifeline. 

“You should have let me die then,” he hissed at Seth. He hoped that his eyes conveyed all the hatred and contempt he felt for the man in that moment even when his voice couldn’t carry the emotions properly. 

Seth winced, looking pale for a moment before his eyes flashed and he snarled at him. “What?”

Spencer stared at him, unmoved, unblinking, feeling the shift in the room. He was almost glad to see the man's true nature now instead of this charade he seemed to try to hard to keep up, that pretense of care, of gentleness. It made it easier in a way.   
There would be no more illusions between them now, at least, he would make sure of it. If Seth thought for a minute that stopping him from dying a second time would change anything about the future-

He didn’t know what exactly Seth thought, if he thought he could fix them, make things go back to how they had been somehow, if he thought he could make him forget the truth somehow if he just pushed long and hard enough...

He'd done it before, after all, ripped him away from death's door...refused to let him go....But he wouldn’t now, not again. This situation, this horrid reflection of the past, Seth taking control over everything, taking and taking, tearing him down piece by piece...it wouldn’t play out like that again.

Spencer knew now.

“I thought it was obvious. I did it to get way. From you.” How could the man not realize that? “Because I would have rather bled out on a cold, dirty bathroom floor, alone, than to have to spend one more second looking at you!” 

Seth seemed to pale at his harsh words, actually hit by them, shocked -Spencer hoped they hurt. He had no idea how Seth had deluded himself into thinking anything else until now, but no more. 

“You don't mean that.”

Seth's face twitched, his expression flickering somewhere between pain and anger once more. His grip tightened, until it was bordering on painful. He was beginning to seem more and more unhinged, more and more like the impulsive, poorly controlled person Spencer had met him as.

Spencer found he didn’t care. What could Seth do to him, really, no matter how angry he got?

“No? Take these off and I'll show you just how much I mean it.”

God, how he wished to get his hands on a knife or gun right now.

He sat there, slightly breathless from his outburst, staring and waiting for Seth to snap, to finally get it was over and drop the act, to lash out at him. For a moment that seemed like an eternity, he watched the multitude of emotions warring on Seth's face, fighting for dominance. 

In the end though, Seth’s grip loosened, and the man relaxed forcibly.

“You think that now,” he said, eyes clouded, back to that disturbing determination, “but you won't always. But you'll be glad I stopped you once you've-”

“No. Stop it!” Spencer couldn’t take one more word of it, “Let me go, right now!”

“Why?” Seth snapped, his thin layer of calm immediately cracking, “You tell me you want to hurt yourself and you think I'm gonna let you?!”   
He shook his head, “That’s not gonna happen, Spencer,” He leaned back, looking around the room as though searching for something, or maybe just to break eye contact for a moment. When he turned back his expression had finality to it. “You’re gonna stay like this until you've come to your senses and until I can be sure you’re not a danger to yourself anymore.”

The statement was so outrageous and ridiculous that Spencer didn’t know whether to laugh or cry some more.   
“Right. Because it's me we've got to worry about. Kind of funny with how often you've threatened to personally slash my throat, don't you think?”

How far gone did that man have to be to actually think he would be the one to keep Spencer from harm...and that Spencer would still want him to now?

His words made Seth freeze a second time. He was motionless for a second before the last bit of anger on his face shattered, along with his determination.   
It was replaced by that terrible, regretful expression again. Spencer would have clawed his own eyes out if it had meant not having to see it on Seth's face. It was too convincing... almost enough to believe...it almost made him want to believe that Seth was doing this because he loved him, worried for him.

“Spencer, I-” 

The fingers that had still been clutching his chin, relented fully and moved up, reaching out almost gingerly to cup his face.   
Spencer jerked away, cringing like the touch might burn him. Or worse, crack the wall of anger he'd built around himself, let his heartbreak shine through once more-

Seth's face crunched up at his reaction. His eyes fell shut for a moment, his features a grimace of pain. He didn't pull back though, merely reached out his other hand to trap his face, and then leaned down, staring at Spencer imploringly, and so honest that it drew the air out of his lungs.

“I would never hurt you”, his voice was just barely steady, “How can you even think that after everything-?”

“Don't,” Spencer felt tears burning in his eyes despite himself, hot and traitorous, “Don't you dare, not after everything-” 

How could Seth be doing this to him? It was worse than anything he could have done. Talking, acting like he cared about him, like he was still the man he'd pretended to be, like the man Spencer had loved wasn’t gone, ripped away from him like a cloud of smoke....like he wasn’t some lowlife, homicidal psychopath who had intentionally taken advantage of his every weakness-  
He wanted to throw in his face that he wasn’t scared of him, that he was nothing to him, less than that-

The truth was though, he was terrified. 

There wasn’t a single thing that Seth could do that wouldn’t hurt him, he knew, not when even looking at him ached this much.   
He shook his head, laughing, “You have hurt me and hurt me and hurt me from day one and in every possible way there was! You took everything from me, broke me- You think I'm afraid of you?! I tried to kill myself, what else can you do to me?! How could you hurt me worse than you already have?!”

“Spencer, I know that what I did was- but you have to understand why I-”

“No!” he was shouting now, not caring about the wetness on his cheeks, “I don't want your explanations, or your apologies! I know enough...enough to know that I never want you near me again...you think, what? That you can tie me up here until I get it? Until I somehow understand why you-” his voice almost broke. He chocked down a sob, “Until I forgive you?” 

He stared up at Seth, breathless and trembling, searching his face for any reaction, anything other than- but there it was, plainly visible. That was exactly what Seth wanted.   
Spencer felt himself grow cold, his eyes hardening as he spoke the next syllables, slowly and clearly so Seth wouldn’t miss them. 

“I will never forgive you.”

He didn’t know why Seth would want forgiveness in the first place -either he actually was deluded enough to think that what they'd had was a real relationship, or he really just wanted to have it easy again, like before, for Spencer not to make it difficult fro him to get what he wanted, to just roll over like- He shook himself, disgusted. Never. 

He kept looking at Seth, just long enough to know he'd gotten it, to see his resolve crumble. It almost felt like it might make up for the reaction he was sure would follow soon.   
Seth would lose it.   
He closed his eyes, trying to hold on to the indifference he felt about that. It had been so long since Seth had ever done anything to physically hurt him, and even back then- but he was capable of it of course.   
Maybe it would help. Help draw a clear line once and for all. Help Spencer to stop aching on the inside like this.

“You think I don’t know that?”   
He almost blinked in surprise when Seth merely kept talking, controlled, even as his voice didn’t show it anymore, “You think I don’t know how you feel right now, that I don't hate myself for it?”

Gods, no, he sounded so sincere, so torn...

“You can hate me if you want to...” he'd never heard Seth so shaken, so desperate. It was disturbing. “But I won't leave you alone with this. I will get you through this...I was, you know I was, I was helping you through the nightmares, and the loss...I was helping you get your life back tog-”

“I don't have a life!” Spencer suddenly snapped, unable to listen anymore, to let this go on, “Everybody I love is dead or has given up on me! Because of you!” He ignored Seth flinching. “All I have is this sick charade-”

“It wasn’t a charade, Spencer, I meant everything I-” 

Again, Spencer stopped him, eyes blazing with tears, voice shaking as he screamed, “You meant it alright! You meant it when you promised you'd kill everyone I cared about if I didn’t comply, you meant it when you promised to rip me away from my life and chain me up until I lost my mind, until I became some puppet for you to f-”

At that, Seth finally, finally snapped, along with Spencer. He lurched forward, grabbing him again and shoving him back onto the bed, knocking the air out of him before he could finish his sentence. He was breathing heavily, his eyes shining with fury and hurt, aggression.

Spencer just laughed at him and the pain. Finally. That had taken long enough.

“Go ahead,” he spat, “What's the point of pretty words anymore? We both know what you are, what you are capable of. You can keep me tied up here as long as you want to. Do whatever you can come up with -it won't change anything. You'll still be a monster. I will still hate you and I’ll still do anything to get away from you. I'd rather be dead than with you.”

He watched with sickening satisfaction as the words ripped through Seth, lessening his own pain just slightly, watched him fall apart. Seth was shaking atop of him, his heavy muscles tensing, ready to press down on him further, to retaliate, he knew- he watched the darkness dawn in the other man's eyes, so startlingly different and yet so familiar from a past lifetime; he watched Seth Gecko reemerge. 

The man's eyes were black as night as he looked down on him, the muscles in his jaw twitching. “You'll change your mind.” 

Spencer watched as his weakness, everything that could be attacked, was pulled back behind a shield old cold and hardness, the way it had always been. He refused to let it terrify him, even as his chest constricted and instincts kicked in, he reminded himself: Seth couldn’t hurt him anymore than he already had. 

He might as well hurt himself trying.


	28. Chapter 28

So this is short. I can only ask again that people let me know they are reading this. Thanks.

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.

In the end, he was almost disappointed.

Of course it would have been insane to say he wanted Seth to hurt him, to beat him, rape him...do any number of terrible things. Still, he couldn't help the thought that it would have been for the best.

It would have been the bloody ending fitting the bloody beginning.

It would have let him hate Seth completely, would have let him focus on that, that and physical pain -it would have distracted him from anything else.

As it was, the night was ending, the first hints of dawn hesitantly creeping through the closed curtains, and he was still no further than he had been hours ago. Trapped, stuck, like a butterfly trapped in a spider web. A spider which was currently lying right next to him without stirring.

Seth's breathing was even and flat. Spencer could only assume he had finally drifted into a shallow sort of sleep. There was no way of telling for sure; he had his back turned towards Seth, lying as far at the edge of the bed as the handcuffs and Seth's heavy arm around him would allow.

He wouldn't turn around. Instead he counted the man's breaths to distract himself from any other thought in his mind. 2078. 2079...

Yes, he had to be asleep. Still, Spencer almost couldn't bring himself to move, sick at the thought that the man would wake up again. He wouldn't be able to take any more of it, the arms hugging him tightly, desperate almost, the gravelly voice murmuring lies into his ear.

By now, he didn't doubt anymore that Seth would not give this up easily. He'd tried everything to repel him, to shake him up, to goad him even...but in the end, Seth, the man with the least ability to control his anger he knew -had proven to be stubborn as a stone wall. Ignoring all proof to the contrary he'd just kept on feeding his delusion, refusing to let Spencer go...or to stop talking...

he had never felt a truer form of torture. The stress had already begun to wear him down and to let his mind slip for just a second meant to feel himself fall back into the past, into the embrace of a lover. It was frightening how easy it would have been to let himself keep slipping, to just abandon sanity and the pain along with it. To give Seth what he wanted.

But he couldn't. He knew that. If not to save himself, he couldn't do that to the people who had fought and died to give him life.

He couldn't let their sacrifice be wasted like this.

So he held on, focusing on the only thing he manged to grasp properly: anger, resentment, hatred.

And he waited. Waited for Seth to finally give in to exhaustion. Then he waited some more.

He knew he'd only have one chance to do this right. Slowly, carefully, he finally turned around in Seth's embrace, his breath held until the man shifted to accommodate his motion. Seth's eyes remained closed, though he pulled him in a little tighter.

Spencer looked away from his features.

Instead he focused on his free hand at their waists. It wasn't much of an effort to move it ever so carefully, and maneuver it into Seth's pocket. In a matter of moments he held the key to his freedom -it was five minutes more before he dared to move enough to be able to open the handcuffs.

Heart racing, he barely held it together long enough to grab Seth's gun from next to his side of the bed.

xxx

Seth woke to the immediate realization that something was not right. Not, wrong-the-way-things-had-been-going-that-night-wro ng -but acutely wrong.

He blinked, feeling a weight on his hips, and shifted -or tried to.

The metallic rattle of handcuffs made his eyes snap open with alarm. He found himself staring up straight into burning hazel eyes. Spencer was straddling him, both hands clutching his gun.

He started, instinctively moving to reach up but the sound of the gun's safety being released made him freeze.

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Unexpected maybe? Or how you thought Seth and Reid would react respectively?


	29. Chapter 29

Fire and Ice

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

Robert Frost

xxx

Silence filled the dark room as Seth and Spencer stared at each other over the muzzle of the cocked gun.

Spencer's hands were shaking, his whole body wracked by tremors, but his eyes were blazing.

Seth's stomach dropped as he stared up at him with his breath held, his whole body tensing at the realization that Spencer was determined and ready to shoot him.

Shoot to kill.

It wasn't an empty threat, he could see that, could see the fire in the other's eyes, the sheer pain and fury and desperation fueling his actions.

He knew it was beyond audacious to be shocked or even feel as hurt as he did- he was well aware he deserved death in a hundred ways. He just hadn't thought Spencer would-

In that moment he really wanted laugh at his own stupidity. Now matter how rational he'd told himself he was being until now...he'd been so blind...

He'd fooled himself into thinking that Spencer's pain and resentment would fade in time, that he would be able to break his fall.

Looking at him now, he didn't know how he could not have realized how irreparably broken Spencer was, held together only by threads, by sheer desperation, anymore.

He'd destroyed the only person he cared about in the world. The only thing that mattered.

In that moment, he wanted to die.

"Spencer..." he whispered, his voice cracking.

He didn't know what he meant to say...there were no words or actions-

He could have told him it was okay, told him to do it and hope it would make something right. But even in the moment he contemplated it, he knew it wouldn't. He knew that as little as Spencer would ever want to admit it, a large portion of his pain was caused by the loss of Seth as someone he trusted and cared for.

Shooting him now would mean losing the last person he had, someone he needed desperately, loved even maybe. It would leave Spencer with nothing and no one to hold him back from falling over the edge completely. He would be completely destroyed, with no one to pick up the pieces. He'd most likely go through with killing himself then.

That thought was enough to let Seth come to a decision. He needed to stop him.

Spencer would not die, not even over his dead body.

He could see that the young man was struggling, his finger trembling on the trigger, his breaths coming harshly; he was clearly fighting with himself.

It was all the hesitation he needed.

"Spencer," Seth moved up his palm in a show of surrender, trying to keep his face blank, "don't. It won't bring you peace. It'll only make it hurt more."

He did his best to push down the petty swell of satisfaction when Spencer faltered, clearly anything but indifferent about killing him. There were tears brimming in his eyes, hot and desperate. For a moment, Seth thought that his voice and gaze would be enough to deter his lover, to make him realize he couldn't do this after all -but it seemed he had underestimated Spencer's pain.

"Not for long," he breathed, never losing his aim.

Seth's heart clenched at the confirmation that he'd been right.

If Spencer shot him now he wouldn't wait long to follow him. It might have been merciful to let him do it, might have been the one right thing to do...but Seth couldn't even consider it. He didn't care what it made him, that he would surely burn for it someday. He didn't care if he'd have to become even more despicable, manipulative, cruel, selfish...it didn't matter much anymore anyway, did it?

He didn't hesitate for a second.

"If you do it," he said quietly, leaving no doubt that he knew what Spencer was saying, "your friends will have died for nothing. They gave their lives to save yours. Kill yourself and that will have been in vain."

He forced himself not to cringe when realization flickered over Spencer's face, his features crunching up in first shock, and then undiluted pain. For a terribly long moment he just stared at him, tears streaming from eyes so full of hurt and betrayal that Seth almost wanted him to pull that trigger just to escape. By the time the gun fell from Spencer's shaking hands, a low, keening sound like that of a hurt animal escaping him, Seth knew this was almost as bad as everything else he'd ever done to Spencer. He'd taken his last source of strength, his last escape.

His heart ached in his chest with that knowledge. In retrospect, he didn't know anymore how he could have ever thought he'd be able t fix their relationship, that Spencer would get over what he'd remembered...he'd just been too damn stubborn, hoping against hope that he could do it, first by trying to convince Spencer of his feelings and regrets, then, by simply forcing him to.

Of course it hadn't worked, wouldn't have worked no matter how long he would have kept the kid chained to a bed...it had been insane to hope it would.

Seeing Spencer now, completely falling apart above him, finally opened his eyes to it though. There was no salvaging this, no bringing back the way they had been. It was back to how it had been before...no, worse. A thousand times worse.

He blinked out of his reverie when Spencer struggled to get off the bed, still looking completely destroyed as he, swaying, made his way to the door, out of the room. Seth just stared after him, not finding the words to call after him. He knew he'd said enough for a lifetime.

He didn't know where the kid was going...if he even knew. He probably just needed to not be where he was. He wouldn't kill himself; that at least Seth was relatively sure of and while it made his gut twist with guilt, it also left him able to breathe with relief.

Seth gave himself a whole five minutes to just lie there, alternating between self loathing and grim relief, then he began to work on the handcuffs.

Xxx

Spencer didn't know where he got the strength to stumble out of that building. All he knew was that he couldn't stay there with Seth, with...everything.

He barely watched where he was going, tears still obscuring his view, blood rushing in his ears. Between the adrenaline still rushing through him from what he'd almost just done and his chest aching like an open wound, he felt dizzy.

Nothing...he had nothing left to do.

He couldn't take revenge, couldn't kill Seth...and he couldn't escape this pain. Seth had made sure of it. He sunk against the house wall, breathing in and out sharply, fighting not to once again space out and allow his body to shut off his mind to escape.

He couldn't...couldn't stay here, where Seth was... blinking, he stared at the empty street in front of him. It was dark and deserted. The car was there...but the keys were upstairs with Seth- no. No, he wouldn't go back up there. He wouldn't get into that car...the one against which Seth had pushed him during their first kiss- No.

He turned away sharply, forcing himself to move again, stumbling along the street and into the darkness. It didn't matter where he'd end up, as long as it was somewhere far away.

Xxx

Three days.

It had been three days since Spencer had run from the hotel room and vanished into thin air. His absence was like a physical pain, a hole in his life. He wasn't prepared for how hard being alone hit him...it left him as barely a shadow of who he'd been.

He searched for Spencer. Without success.

Seth had no idea how he'd managed to vanish like this in his state, without a plan, a coat, or money...he'd had virtually nothing on him that night.

His stomach clenched every time at the thought that something might have happened to the young man, but as often as he asked around while looking through the town, he never heard of any deaths or grave injuries.

So he kept on looking, refusing to leave the city even though it was becoming riskier and riskier to do so. People were aware of the man he'd killed, the police had gone around asking questions and he'd barely evaded them. He knew he wasn't being careful, that he wasn't thinking clearly, but he couldn't help it.

All he could think about was Spencer, that he had to find him. No matter what.

He knew that Spencer had either long hitched a ride out of here or was hiding away somewhere in the city somehow in order to evade him. It didn't matter.

He had to see him, make sure he was alive. Anything beyond that, he refused to think about.

He should have left.

He realized that at the latest when another one of Joe's men turned up. He'd been sent to find out what had happened to his predecessor. Or so Seth thought. He didn't ask many questions, merely followed the man and slit his throat in a back alley with the same knife he'd used on the first man.

He knew he needed to leave, that Joe would just grow suspicious and send more men...that the police would eventually start looking harder into these murders. It didn't change anything, he kept roaming the streets looking for Spencer, not caring about anything else.

Xxx

Spencer wasn't sleeping.

He didn't even try anymore.

It was bad enough trying to suppress the gruesome memories haunting him while he was awake.

He hadn't even tried to leave...he was as bad, if not worse than he had been just after his memory loss when it came to being around people and he had little hope that he would find someone to hitch a ride from. Being in a car with someone...or worse a crowded bus made him tremble with horror.

Not that he would have had anywhere to go. He could not go home. To his mother, or JJ or Garcia. What would he tell them about where he'd been? How the others had died? How would he look them in the eye and confess his shame?

No, he had no right to even ask them for forgiveness.

He didn't want it. He deserved this pain, going through it alone...that much at least Seth had been right about. He could not just kill himself. It would make Hotch, Elle and Gideon's sacrifice pointless...and it would be much to easy.

That left him with nothing. With the little money he'd had in his pockets he'd rented the cheapest motel room he could find and had holed himself up in there. It was pointless obviously. Soon enough he would run out of money, or Seth would find him.

Had he had the energy he would have at least gone to another city to make sure he never had to see the man again. He didn't. He refused to think about the reasons.

Sometimes he managed to tell himself it wouldn't matter anyway. If Seth wanted to find him he would find him anywhere. He was in no shape to outwit an obsessed ex con. Seth had been smart, making sure he was completely dependent on him, leaving him stranded in a city the name of which he didn't even know, with no papers, no money, no transportation...just the desert and people who didn't understand him.

It was worse when he had to admit to himself that maybe, just maybe, he wanted Seth to find him.

Either way, find him, he did.

And he was by far not the only one.

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Okay, I swear, next chapter there'll be action.

Please review :)


	30. Chapter 30

Okay, so this took forever but I'm actually pretty happy with it. I really wanted to get ahead with the plot but not leave the prior problems unaddressed, so since apparetly I am incapable of brevity, this got really long. 

I really hope you like it and that it makes sense to everybody even though it's not an easy subject. I feel like I should warn for triggers, but it's nothing that hasn't been in the story before and I don't wanna spoil anything. Just, be warned. This is another OMG-how-can-she-do-this-to-poor-Reid-hasn't-he-suf fered-enough-already-chapter. ^^ 

Well, lastly I wanna say, thanks ever so much for your kind reviews, you don't know how much it means to me that you're still with this story. Now, enjoy!

P.S.: Yes, I'm aware of the recurring elements. They are meant to be where they are.

Xxx

Pain has an element of blank; 

It cannot recollect 

When it began, or if there was 

A time when it was not. 

It has no future but itself, 

Its infinite realms contain 

Its past, enlightened to perceive 

New periods of pain.

xxx

He couldn't have said how long it took for Seth to come for him.

He'd known all along that he would of course, but these days, wading through a blur of tangled, washed out impressions and memories, he couldn't tell anymore what was real and what wasn't.

He'd given up trying.

What did it matter what was real when both his delusions and his reality were equally terrifying and painful? What did it matter if this was a new motel room or one of the others, from before, when he felt and saw exactly the same in them, the images swirling around him, pressing into him and leaving him without sight or breath...

Seth was with him even when he wasn't.

His voice was in his ears, sometimes so soft it brought tears to his eyes, sometimes so cold and harsh it made him cringe from is own mind. His touch was ever-present, calloused fingertips trailing over the back of his neck, crawling under his skin. With his eyes closed or open, he would find himself gazing into bottomless black orbs, lost. Always lost.

'You look tired, baby,' warm fingers entwining with his, squeezing them slightly over the backdrop of Mexican music and foreign voices, 'Come on, let's get out of here.' 

The same fingers, ghosting over his collarbone, tracing the soft skin on his throat when Spencer lied in bed, staring at the black ceiling. 

Gentle, loving, grounding. 

Brutal, crushing, choking. 

The man above him turning into a monster as his mask evaporated. 

The images were bleeding together, too raw, too real...keeping him stuck between mournful stupor and shaking terror.

'Gonna kill me, Spencer? I don't think you've got it in you.'

He couldn't shake him, him or anything. Not the terror running rampant when the shadows in the room would suddenly transform into hellish recreations of the monsters in the bar, or into Richard, his face hungry and demonic as it floated in the air above him, grinning a bloodied grin.

He could do nothing as he was thrown around helplessly by the waves of impressions washing over him, drowning him and ripping away any hold on reality he might have had.

He couldn't go outside, not when his own shadow nearly gave him heart attacks...he couldn't eat, he couldn't drink...

'The stream of water in front of him suddenly turned a bright red, and Spencer dropped his half empty glass with a strangled gasp, watching as it shattered into a thousand fragments in the sink. No! 

Tears shot into his eyes as he frantically tried to pick them up and piece them back together, even as they cut into his fingers, drawing even more blood. 

He was trembling uncontrollably by the time strong, steady hands took hold of his own from behind, stilling him. 

'Don't do that,' Seth murmured into his neck, solid against his back, 'It can be fixed. And you know you'll only hurt yourself.' 

Spencer felt tears streaming down his face as he stared at their joined hands, Seth's just as slick and red as his...he wanted to pull away, but he couldn't...Seth wasn't letting him go grip suddenly just as painful as the splinters inside him.

'Please, please...' 

He didn't know if he was begging for Seth to let go or make the pain go away...he knew he would do neither.

'You need to rest, baby. Just let go.' 

But he couldn't.'

He didn't even try to sleep anymore at night, just lied there frozen to his mattress in dreadful silence and cold sweat. If he did doze of he either woke to the sensation of claws slicing into him or with the fading scent of Seth's aftershave floating in the air around him, a phantom pain clinging to his sheets...

Those moment were the worst, worse than any monsters...to find himself with the last of his defenses lowered, forced to feel just how gaping and crippling the wound in his chest really was, to have to admit to himself what he wouldn't while truly awake: Just how much he missed Seth, just how much he wanted, needed-

So he didn't sleep. When he was awake at least he could remind himself that he hated the man. That he had taken everything from him, turned him into this. That he had condemned him to a hell from which there was no release. That because of him, he couldn't find comfort, couldn't even die to escape.

This was his punishment, he knew.

He vaguely remembered having thought that just after his friends had died that fateful night...but he didn't understand punishment until now. He'd thought it ironic that Seth should hurt him back then...

He'd had no idea how much hurt he could possibly feel.

It wasn't just Seth though.

They were there too, a constant in his new reality.

JJ, Garcia, Elle...Morgan, Hotch, Gideon. There were brief, heavenly breaks in his concentration when he would blink and they'd be there. Healthy and whole and happy.

He would be standing in the small kitchen and feel Morgan walk in, put a hand on his shoulder and give a cocky smile...

'How's it going, genius?'

Or he would stare at one of the red towels by the sink only for it to melt into one of Garcia's colorful dresses, her voice, laughing along with JJ's, swirling in his head...

'Come on, Spence, you have to blow out the candles!'

Those moments when he had his family back -when he could feel the pain lift off his chest- were becoming just as real as the nightmarish visions. He could feel their touches, their warmth as they surrounded him, making the icy flare of loneliness even more cruel when he would blink and suddenly find himself alone in his crappy, dim motel room.

As much as it hurt though, he didn't try to chase them away. Instead he clung to them with everything he had. The smiles, the quiet insubstantial chatter floating around him...nothing was worth fighting that, not even knowing that soon enough the smiles would turn accusing, bloody, twisted, that he could find himself kneeling on the cold ground over Hotch's corpse, a bloody knife in his hands in the blink of an eye, or find Gideon staring at him out of haunted eyes, a seeping bullet hole in his head, saying, 'How could you, Spencer?' 

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry..." he whispered it into the darkness, blinded by tears, until his throat was sore...until he hoped one of those shadow monsters could be real enough to end his torture. Nothing was real though. Nothing but the pain.

Until Seth.

When eventually he did show up, Spencer at first just thought him another delusion.

He blinked in his direction numbly, unmoving, when he saw him standing there in the half dark of his abode, the familiar silhouette having come through the door without knocking, unbidden, blurred.

Stood, dazed and exhausted, dispassionately waiting to see what kind of terror his vision of the man would bring this time.

It was only when there were no immediate words, torn and twisted from his memory, no hard hands smearing blood on his throat, that he blinked, confused, and tried to focus.

Seth seemed no less substantial than ever in his blurred sights, solid and inevitable, always the anchor pulling him down. The same voice, twisting his gut when it formed his name. The same damned perfect face, down to the last detail.

The eyes were wrong though.

He could see the pain in them, searing, cutting, real. In just the way Seth had looked at him after he'd found out...always really if he thought about it.

Wrong. The sensation reverberated within him, setting him on edge. His visions always displayed Seth in one way or another...never both, because the two contrasts -Seth being who he was and having done what he did, and Seth actually caring about him- were irreconcilable. Even his messed up brain had enough logic left to separate both. They never coincided.

Except in Seth. That was why it had been so painful to be around him, look into his face-

Seth.

Spencer shuddered, eyes going wide, heart beginning to beat irregularly.

"Seth..."

The ex con just stood there looking at him, face ashen and haunted, his expression still blurring the line between the man who had loved Spencer and the man who had used and betrayed him.

"Don't-" hands lifted appealingly, "...I only needed to see you..."

He barely registered the words. The first grasp at something definitely solid outside his mind in forever was like a douse of icy water.

Two emotions surged up at the same time exactly at that: the urge to run, run as fast and as far away as he could -and the breathtaking need to throw himself at the man and cling to him with all he had. He could feel his knees go weak, his stomach dropping out, panic rising...he shook, torn and terrified of himself.

"Go away," he heard his own voice, hoarse, scratchy from lack of use, "Get out-"

Seth took a step towards him, his face twisting, his expression somewhere between intense guilt, concern, and pain.

"Fucking hell," he rasped, "What have you done to yourself, Spencer? You look half dead-"

Spencer cringed at the familiar sound of worried concern...so genuine...so...needed...God, he was so tired, so exhausted..if only...

He swayed once more, and saw Seth take what looked like an instinctive step towards him, hands coming up. The motion made him snap back to reason and he shrank back.

"Stop-"

He couldn't just be standing here, he had to get away or Seth would-

What?

Make it worse? Hardly. He'd run from Seth, he'd hidden...and where had it gotten him?

Make it better? The thought was equally disturbing.

No. He couldn't- couldn't betray himself like that...it would mean losing his mind completely...

"Please, j-just...go away-"

He didn't care if it sounded pleading and weak. He didn't have any delusions about his own state and situation at this point. He couldn't fight Seth...wasn't even sure he wanted to at this point... he'd spent  
all his fighting energy, he'd raged, accused, thrown the truth in the man's face...he'd tried to die, he'd tried to kill Seth.

And yet they were both still here and nothing seemed to have changed.

Except that he really had nothing left but his pain now, nothing left to hide behind, nowhere to run to.

He didn't even know why he was attempting to fight anymore...To keep himself? For what? There wasn't anything of him left that was worth upholding anyway. Nothing more for Seth to destroy.

Maybe he just didn't want him to gloat over the shards.

"Why can't you j-just leave me alone?" he cried when Seth still didn't move, just stared. "You've already taken e-everything- what is there left...? Do you really have to h- hurt me more?"

He couldn't understand how Seth could be so cruel...how he could have misjudged the man so completely...even Seth had to be human enough to see he was just torturing him...was he enjoying this? Could this really have all been a game to him, playing the part of the empathetic, morally torn anti-hero, the confidant, the lover...?

"How could you d-do this to me?" He didn't want to ask the question, didn't want to cut into his own flesh, but the words gushed from him, unstoppable. His heart was pounding in his chest, his whole body feeling like a single stinging wound. "How could you build me up... comfort me...pretend to c-care, t-turn me into this...make me need you, only to- is this entertaining to you?!"

Blood was rushing in his ears. He was vaguely aware of the tears streaming down his face, messing with his sight...he was dizzy beyond that though, his breath faltering, his sight closing in as he hyperventilated.

Every time...Seth...

There were black dots in front of his eyes suddenly and then the world just slipped, tilting to one side, exhaustion and stress finally taking their toll and shutting down his body.

Arms caught him before he could hit the floor, breaking his fall. For a second everything went black, then he blinked and found himself crumpled to the floor, on his knees and awkwardly crushed to Seth's chest- Seth-

He recoiled, cringing from the other man's touch, but his body felt numb and Seth's hold on him was vice-like, inescapable and near crushing. He still struck out, writhing to escape somehow, to get away from Seth's touch, his closeness. No! No, no, no- 

Seth didn't let go though, just let him thrash and cry, his embrace too tight, too warm...his voice in his ear, shushing...

Within seconds, Spencer could feel himself crumbling even as he fought it, could feel his feeble defenses fall despite the burn of Seth's touch, the revulsion. After a forever alone, his touch was so real...he'd craved it so much...it was like breaking to the surface of an icy ocean and gulping air into his bursting lungs- he felt himself shaking violently with his warring emotions, sobbing convulsively, all the while still weakly, nonsensically pushing at Seth's chest.

"N-no-stop, stop-"

Seth's free hand wound around his neck, not threatening but solid and comforting, pulling his head to his chest, to his mouth, whispering, nonsensical but soothing. So much like-

Too exhausted to hit anymore, he clawed at the fabric of Seth's suit jacket, nails digging into hard muscle pointlessly.

"Please," his voice was barely audible, broken. He didn't know what he was begging for and yet he kept repeating the word as though driven by an unconscious, inner force.

Please, please, please. 

He could feel himself slipping, his eyes rolling back in his head, cold sweat on his skin. Seth was so close, so real, like a lifeline pulling him out of the morass of his own mind... His scent was all-enveloping, familiar, promising soothe, relief, peace... until the desire to bury his face in the crook of the convict's neck and let everything else fall away was so strong that it was hard for him to register anything else.

"Please let me go," he begged, even as he couldn't make his own fingers release their death grip on the man.

"I'm sorry," Seth whispered, voice oddly broken in his ear. His hand which was carding through Spencer's messy curls seemed to be shaking. "I'm so fucking sorry...you have to believe me...listen to me...please...I never wanted to hurt you like this. I wasn't playing any fucking games, how can you- Please...listen. Just- listen. I'm not asking for forgiveness...but you can't think-. I know what I did was...the worst... I just couldn't- couldn't let you go...I wanted to. Let you go and make sure you were safe from me, from me causing you any more pain. I was going to, I swear. But outside that bar, after all that...you had been so broken...you then you just didn't remember anything. You weren't mourning or scared, you didn't hate me...you smiled at me and I...you were the first person to make me feel human since...ever...and...and I just couldn't...I lied to you but not about that, never- I knew this would happen but I couldn't bear the thought of you leaving me. Please...Spencer, you can't do this to yourself...please let me help you, I'll do anything..."

The words washed over him, some of them making no sense while others struck a cord somewhere within him, jabbing at the hole in his chest. He wanted to scream at Seth to stop lying...he didn't want to believe he wasn't.

Except he was desperate to. Desperate for any of that to be true. For not all of it to have been a lie.

Logically he knew it wouldn't change anything, just make things even worse...heartbreaking for both of them -not that he should care how Seth felt at this point- but still he couldn't help but let the words take root somewhere within him. It wasn't fair...Seth could have told him anything right now, he knew...he probably would have caved even if it hadn't been so convincing.

He just needed, needed...with a thin flare of shame he realized he was pressing closer to Seth now, practically clinging to his embrace. He tried to make himself stop but his body just wouldn't obey, the powerful draw of warm comfort and safety, of oblivion overriding his screaming mind.

Maybe misinterpreting his stillness, maybe indifferent to his reasons, Seth pulled him closer, kissing his hair, all the while still mouthing words that went right over his head, that didn't matter except for the tone, the sound of them. The physical relief it brought was like water on his parched lips, like oxygen in his lungs.

"You lied...you only ever lied to me..." he mumbled weakly, a last uprising of dying reason...not that it mattered anymore. He couldn't even bring himself to flinch when Seth's palm pressed against his wet cheek. Gods, he had to stop this...how could he possibly justify this...?

"T-tell me...tell me just one true thing...just one-"

His head was spinning, his grip on consciousness slipping already.

Seth gripped him tighter, his fingers digging into his back until Spencer could feel his sore skin bruise. "I love you. More than I've ever loved anything...in this world...I didn't want to, didn't think I could. But I do," he felt Seth shudder against him, the words gushing out with a trembling voice, "I would do anything, anything for you...to keep you safe and happy...but I can't let let you go. Please...just, please-"

He didn't hear anymore. Darkness kindly took him before he could either burst out into laughter or more sobs.

xxx

It didn't get better.

Easier maybe.

He let go, didn't try to cling to illusions like hope or pride or salvation any longer. He accepted the relief Seth's presence brought him, let him take away the cutting pain of lonesomeness...even if it meant letting go of reason, of sanity all together.

Slowly, he learned to tune out the protesting voices in his head...the shame and guilt and self-loathing. Learned to tune out Gideon's disapproving glare and JJ's silent tears.

The fact that he didn't think he'd have had a choice didn't make it much better. He doubted Seth would have let him go anywhere, caught up in his own delusional obsession...sure he would keep him, even if it was just under the guise of worrying for his health.

Not that he thought he would have made it much longer on his own.

So he stayed alive, through Seth, despite Seth. He didn't forgive, not that it mattered.

They didn't talk about it. Any of it.

They just went on, as much as one could go on from what they had been through. Spencer didn't speak, hardly could bring himself to look at Seth, at least not his eyes...but he didn't try to leave either, didn't pull away when Seth touched him. Didn't try to pretend he didn't crave it.

He let him hold him through the nights, whisper away the nightmarish visions as best as he could and tried not to shudder at his touch in the brief moments of clarity he couldn't avoid. It worked when he let his brain shut off...when he managed to compartmentalize and just see Seth in the moment, warm and caring, actively shutting out everything else he knew.

They didn't speak about what had been lost between them.

The ease of living by each other sides, the genuine laughter and affection. The trust.

What really held them together was still there, unscratched and only now in plain sight. They both needed each other with a scorching intensity, maybe now more than ever. Even in the bitter, tainted aftermath of destruction, their addiction was mutually relentless.

They never spoke of Seth's confession either and Seth never repeated the words throughout the heavy silence of their days.

Spencer wasn't sure he'd even heard it, or if his overheated brain had just made it up seconds before he'd slipped into unconsciousness...either way he refused to give the words any more reality. It wasn't even that he didn't believe Seth...by now he could wrap his mind around the fact that Seth did love him in his own terrifying and twisted way.

He wouldn't acknowledge it because he was afraid to imply he felt similarly, that Seth would want to hear something similar from him, too.

Not that he didn't.

He loved Seth, despite everything, loved him so much it was tearing him to pieces...but he couldn't give Seth and this thing between them any more power, any more hold on him by voicing it. It would have been a verbal surrender on top of a physical one, meaning the complete destruction of everything he'd been. He knew it was irrational and pointless to cling to any remnant of resistance when Seth clearly had him so completely, body and soul, but he still couldn't let go of it.

It was the only thing he managed to withhold from Seth in the end.

It wasn't in that first night, that much he was sure of despite his frazzled state. But...sometimes afterward -he didn't keep track of days, still couldn't- after countless times of Seth shaking him out of his delusions with short success, after it turned out that the less the delusions during the day grew the worse the nightmares became at night... after Seth had woken up repeatedly in the pitch black to find him cowering in a corner, or under the covers, thrashing and screaming...that during one night, it just wasn't enough anymore. That Seth's hands around his back and in his hair weren't enough to soothe him anymore, to chase away the demons in his head.

He knew it was a mistake even before it happened. Before he shakily turned around in Seth's embrace, breathing heavily as he stared at the man's lips instead of his eyes, the memories of a far away night sharp on his mind.

"Kid-" Seth sounded worried, alert like he hadn't been sleeping at all. His thumb traced the trail of tears on Spencer's cheek. Trembling, Spencer moved closer, into the touch instead of away, until his forehead was all but touching Seth's, their breaths mingling.

They were kissing but a second later, urgent and messy, more teeth that anything else. The contact made his whole body seize up, a shock going through him like a lighting rod.

For a second his whole being revolted, horrified, and he bit down on Seth's lip, hard, punishing. Seth pulled back with a sharp inhale, blood on his lips, black eyes locking into his for the fraction of a frozen second. Then Spencer's hands were clenched in his hair, tearing, and they were back on each other in a blink.

It wasn't tender or even particularly careful, the way it had always been between them, but rather desperate and frantic, needy and affirming. Wiping his mind in the truest sense of the expression. For a precious few moments, it all went away, replaced by a new kind of pain, by mindless pleasure.

By the end of it, Spencer lay aching and bruised, still shaking but finally calm...he closed his eyes, ignoring Seth's imploring stare and just let himself feel nothing. Empty. Let the static fill him, earse him, and Seth, and the world. It was devastating and blissful both at once.

It was the first night in an eternity that he actually slept.

The next morning, they didn't speak about the sex either. They went on, speechless. Until the next time. And then the time after that.

And Spencer came to accept the periods of self-loathing, of feeling his searing betrayal burning him from the inside...accepted it in exchange for brief periods of peace, in the same way a heroin addict would put up with the cravings for the next blissful high.

Going the way they were, it was frighteningly easy to fall back into a routine of sorts. A cohabitation which they both knew would not stand against any scrutiny or prodding...so nothing of importance was ever said.

Seth seemed upset by it, but he didn't push after the first few attempts at conversation had been shot down. He didn't ask why Spencer hadn't gone back home, probably because he realized there had been nowhere for him to go, maybe because he didn't care as long as he hadn't left.

Respectively, Spencer didn't ask about the dead man in the alley or how Seth intended for them to go on.

Seth seemed edgy still being in the same town, even if it was a motel slightly further away from the alley...but Spencer couldn't even pretend that he felt stable enough to walk out into the world and get into the car with Seth. They had managed a sort of strained truce within the small confines of these walls, dictated by their addictions, and Spencer had succeeded in shutting out almost everything that Seth was to the world out there...but neither of them was sure enough that that would last to risk it.

Not yet.

Spencer knew they couldn't stay like this forever...but he kept pushing the decision farther ahead. The longer he did the longer he could keep on pretending that maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after he'd be strong enough to walk away...

Every day that Seth didn't drag him out of here was another day he could tell himself he'd have a choice.

In the end, neither of them made a decision. The outside world came knocking on their door before they could.

It was around midday when there was a knock on the door.

Seth was in the bathroom showering, and at first Spencer didn't even react to the sound, half sure it was just inside his head, part of his current day dream.

It was only when the knocking came again, louder and more insistent that he sat up in bed, anxiously staring at the door.

Who-?

Room service never came to them anymore, something that he was sure Seth had arranged. There was no one else...no one welcome at least...

Another knock, and Spencer's heart was beating fast, unease curling in his stomach. He glanced over at the bathroom door but the shower was still running. Seth hadn't heard.

Hesitantly, he got up, slipping on a pair of pants and a long sleeved shirt that would cover him. After a moment's pause, he leaned over the mattress and grabbed Seth's gun from the bed side table, making sure it was locked before shoving it into the back of his pants. Only then did he approach the door and opened it minimally, peering outside.

The sight he was greeted with was not what he would have expected.

"Sorry for the disturbance," a handsome brunette woman in ironed pants and a stark white blouse said in Spanish, smiling at him, "This is about the string of murders in this neighborhood, I'm sure you've heard about them? We're interviewing people in the area to find possible witnesses...could we maybe come in?"

Spencer blinked at her with his breath held, unable to answer for a too long moment, before he collected himself. "Can I see some identification, please?"

"Of course," the woman was quick to produce a badge with a picture from her belt. The older man next to her, who Spencer only noticed then, did the same.

"I'm Emily Prentiss. This is SSA David Rossi. We're with the Behavioral Analysis Unit back in the States."

xxx

"The past may not repeat itself but it does rhyme." -Mark Twain.

xxx

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Haha! I hope that was a surprise at the end there. I wanted to cut it off before that but then I thought, Nah, let em have it to chew over^^ 

Again, I really hope this resolution of things will be received well. I know it might not seem to make sense for Spencer to do what he does but in a way it does. He's just out of options. It doesn't mean he's forgiven Seth or himself. 

Btw, anyone catch the Dilaudid reference? ;)

Okay I'm out, please let me know if you liked it, or if not, why! Thanks! xo


	31. Chapter 31

Emily is still staring at the scars. 

It unnerves him. 

He doesn't look at them if he can help it, blocks out their existence as best he can. They're too vivid a reminder of the scars on his soul, faded but permanently etched into him, Seth's in-erasable brand on him which ensures that he'll never be free. 

"Why did you do it?" she asks. He can't help but laugh mirthlessly at such a stupid question.

"Because I wanted to die."

"Why didn't you go through with it?" 

He shrugs. Doesn't want to think about that night for too long if he can help it. "Seth stopped me."

Emily's brows furrow slightly,"He saved your life?" 

Spencer scoffs, his expression turning bitter. "It's only saving if you want to be saved." 

The words seem to make her think over her train of thought, adjust its course to the new morsel of information.

"Is that why you didn't accept my help when I offered? Because you felt you were beyond saving?"

Another shrug. "I knew I was." 

She suddenly looks upset, leaning forward insistently, "Why didn't you at least take the chance to get back to the rest of the team, your friends, people who would have tried to help you? The chance was right there-"

Yes, it was...or was it? 

He doesn't bother pointing out that more than likely Seth would have stopped all of them from leaving had he said anything that day. He thinks she knows that she's alive now because of his inaction then -he thinks it's why she still hasn't given up trying to 'help' him, because she feels a false sense of obligation.

He tells her another part of the truth instead, one that he's been wanting to tell someone, anyone for so long now, but couldn't.

"I couldn't face them after what had happened...couldn't tell them why I was alive while the others weren't..." 

Somewhere through his numb stupor he hopes she'll understand. That she'll help them understand.

As always though, she only sees how he's broken...not why.

"Good heavens," she murmurs, for a moment looking distraught, "What did he do to you?"

He keeps silent. 

He didn't tell her then, when she asked almost exactly the same question, and he certainly won't now.

Xxx

The BAU.

The woman's introduction washed over him, focused as he was on staring at the familiar credentials she was holding out for him.

The B.A.U.

For a long moment, he was completely sure this wasn't really happening, that this whole situation was entirely created by his frazzled mind. That he was now not only seeing familiar faces but also making up new ones.

Because, it couldn't be anything else...they couldn't be here. This was Mexico...wasn't it?

For a moment he considered that he might be in the States again and hadn't noticed...but no...And even if...out of all places...

That left only two options.

They weren't really here-

He blinked, blinked again, forced himself to focus -but they didn't vanish. They were still standing there, impossible as it was.

Or, option two-

They were here looking for them.

Through his shock, dread slowly began to rise. No. That couldn't-no-

"Sir?" The woman -Prentiss- looked at him, still terribly real and now frowning slightly at his lack of reaction.

Spencer couldn't answer, all air having left his lungs. He felt dizzy, cold sweat setting on his brow. His heart stuttered, then began to race.

He should have been elated, relieved to see them here, he knew...if they were here to arrest Seth it would mean the end of...this.

It was all over...they would take him back to Quantico...to the team...and Seth...Seth- would rot in some jail cell...he'd never see him again...

Just how it was supposed to be.

How he should want it.

He tried to breathe in, to calm himself down - but his lungs wouldn't inflate, like there was a vice around his chest suddenly. He was helpless to push back the wave of nausea fear devastation panic that swept over him, threatening to pull his feet out from under him. No. No, no, no-

Spencer jumped when suddenly there was a strong hand on his shoulder, pulling him back to the moment. The agents' eyes moved to a spot over his head.

"Is there a problem?" Seth asked from behind him.

Spencer felt his stomach drop out.

Seth.

Seth and the BAU.

The confrontation was there before he'd had a chance to make any sense of his conflicting thoughts and emotions, before he'd even had time- there was no more time now.

His heart stopped as he waited for all hell to break loose, for the agents to start yelling and draw their weapons, for Seth to do the same -and for one truly horrible moment his body was torn between throwing himself to the floor to give them free aim and throwing the door shut, blocking them from Seth.

He trembled and felt Seth's hand on his shoulder tighten, keeping him trapped in place, frozen between the two parties.

"Good morning," Prentiss smiled -smiled- at Seth now, her demeanor unchanged as she introduced herself and her colleague once more. Her hands didn't move an inch towards her belt, didn't even twitch.

Spencer stared at her incredulously. Then at Rossi, who hadn't moved either, face guarded but placid.

What-?

Seth's impossible calm timbre washed over him, an empty greeting returned.

A moment later he was pulled back and stopped breathing, still fully expecting Seth to draw his weapon and start shooting -do something, come on, you have to-

But again, nothing happened.

Rossi and Prentiss nodded politely, then stepped over the now free threshold and into the motel room.

"Just a few questions, we'll be out of your hair in a minute."

"Of course."

Dully, Spencer's brain registered that both parties were still speaking Spanish but he couldn't focus on that, his mind still reeling with the incongruity of what was happening. This couldn't be real...they couldn't not know...not realize...

He had never met these people, sure, but they were BAU. They had to know about him, about the Gecko brothers...Seth had been on the most wanted list before his disappearance.

And yet, nothing. Could they be faking it?

His eyes darted from the agents to Seth. The older man's expression was perfectly calm still, frighteningly composed...he was wearing a long sleeved shirt with the collar turned up, hiding his tattoo. It was Spencer's, slightly too tight and making him look uncharacteristic. ...So he had heard them talking from the bathroom and improvised a disguise...

Why? He could help but think...Seth couldn't possibly think that would work. That these agents wouldn't realize at some point...if they hadn't yet...that Spencer wouldn't tell-

And why the hell wasn't he?! Why was he still just standing there like a freaking statue? Why wasn't he shaking off Seth's hand and yelling at these people to get out as long as they still could? For all he knew Seth had only let them enter so he wouldn't have to kill them in the hallway...

Nausea spread though him like dry ice at that mental image, at the thought of having to watch two more BAU team members die. He shuddered, and Seth's hand squeezed his shoulder warmly. In warning, in comfort? He had no idea. Seth was capable of pretty much anything...Spencer had no trouble believing he would kill these agents to keep from being found out...like he'd killed that man in the alley...

His eyes flickered over the agents anxiously, cold sweat on his brow, as they walked into the room, their backs briefly turned as they took a look around. He took that short moment to let his gaze snap to Seth's, wide eyed, terrified, imploring.

Seth met his stare out of bottomless black eyes, the polite mask briefly slipping to reveal a more familiar expression. Spencer stared back motionlessly, unable to phantom what he'd just seen...what Seth was thinking, or planning...

He shifted and felt the cold metal of the gun still tucked into his pants. For a split second he felt relief at knowing Seth didn't have it -until he realized he'd seen Seth incapacitate more people than this without a weapon.

No. No, he had to say something right now. If they weren't caught by surprise, maybe even if Spencer got in between them long enough to block Seth and let them draw their weapons...they could take him.

They would take him away.

Seth would never see him again, or look at him, or hold or touch him...he'd be completely alone, just the way he'd been when Seth had found him days ago... again he felt the oxygen being pressed out of his lungs, panic rising -but this time he was terribly aware just what he was afraid of...

Something shifted in Seth's eyes just then, settling, something too deep down for him to decipher. It made him feel terrified anyway...terrified of what Seth might have seen in his expression just now, of what he might do because of it-

'No,' he mouthed, breathless. His fingers found Seth's wrist between their bodies, squeezing as hard as he could. 'No-'

He tried to find the words to let Seth know -and to remind himself- that there was no way he would let him hurt these people, to repeat the old pattern-

Just then Prentiss turned towards them, interrupting.

Her dark eyes narrowed slightly as she looked over them and Spencer let go of Seth's wrist like he'd been burned, turning fully towards her and away from the ex con.

"Are you alright?" She looked over his sweaty brow and pale features.

'No. No, I'm not alright. I feel sick...I'm scared...scared for you...scared of myself...Out, you have to get out...because I don't know what will happen if you don't-'

"You have to excuse him," Seth answered, immediately composed and charming again. He squeezed Spencer's shoulder lightly, leaning in, "He hasn't been feeling well. Stomach flu. We're not really prepared for company."

The woman continued to look worried but nodded. "We won't keep you long. Like I said, this is about a string of murders in the area. We're hoping to find people who might have seen something, heard something..."

"What happened?" Seth asked.

"Roughly two weeks ago, an American with ties to a major crime family in the States was found stabbed to death in a back alley not far from here. Police investigated and it was ruled coincidence. Until four days later another body was found just a few blocks away from the first...also with known connections to the same family."

It took Spencer a long moment to be able to process her words at all. To think anything other than: 'Oh my God, he's asking them for details to find out who might know they're here and how long it will take for someone to come looking.' 

Then, when he actually heard her, he thought he might be sick right there.

They were talking about Seth's murder.

Murders.

It took all of his control to not look over at Seth at that. He hadn't known of a second one, Seth hadn't said anything- but he had no trouble believing it. He couldn't even feel shocked. Just cold.

Slowly, the puzzle pieces began to fall together then...even in his muddled brain.

The agents were really here about a presumably unrelated case, not for them. They were probably asking all the people in the neighborhood for clues...it really was coincidence that they had just stumbled onto the real UnSub in two of the BAU'S cases. They were in Mexico because the case had begun in the US-

"And the third?" he asked numbly.

It had to be three murders for the BAU to be called in. Seth's hand on his shoulder tightened imperceptibly and both agents looked at him with surprise, if not awakening interest. "It has to be three for the FBI to be called in, doesn't it?"

"No one yet," Rossi supplied after a moment, brows furrowed ever so slightly, his eyes briefly lingering on Seth's hand still on him. "...But there have been reports that a known member of the organization crossed the border two days ago. We think he's heading here...and that there will be more murders to come."

Spencer took the information in, his mind swirling. This sounded like...like he should be freaking out...like someone was after them- after Seth. And Seth hadn't told him. Which wasn't okay, not even by their messed up standards-

But he couldn't ask, not now...and he didn't know if there would be another opportunity...

He felt the conversation draw to and end, the agents shifting towards the door, and tensed, heart racing in his chest, apprehensive for Seth to make his move and still not knowing hat he would do, which drive and fear would win out.

"Sorry, but I don't think we can be of much help, agents," Seth hadn't moved from his spot, "We are only on our way through here...traveling south, you know...and we haven't really left the room while we were here."

The hand on his shoulder shifted minimally closer to the juncture of his neck and Spencer felt both of the agents' eyes on them now, sharp, analyzing.

"Flu?" Prentiss asked once more.

"Right," said Seth, poignant.

Rossi looked at him for a moment too long then, making Spencer's heart miss a few beats, then he nodded, seemingly accepting that lie. The tension in the room seemed to sink a little.

Rossi turned towards the door. "I saw the Plymouth outside...that yours?"

"'One and only."

"Do you mind if I take a look? I'm kind of a connoisseur when it comes to vintage cars, and since there's nothing else to be done here..." he smirked slightly, a little too casual.

Seth mirrored his expression and tone perfectly. "Course."

Then he moved around Spencer, lifting his hand off his shoulder altogether-Spencer stopped breathing -until Seth's thumb ghosted over his chin, the whisper of a caress, gone in a blink.

"You'll be okay up here for a while?" His tone was too low, too soft...it didn't fit the situation. Spencer didn't dare look up into his eyes, terrified of what he might see there. Terrified of what he might -or might not- do.

He felt himself nod numbly, then Seth moved away, leaving a cold void at his side.

His eyes snapped up, following Seth as he walked towards the door, part of him screaming to move, to grab him and stop him-

"Mind if I use the restroom before we go?" He could hear the female agent step closer, the smile in her tone also false. A shrug. "Not much interest in cars."

This time he couldn't even nod. Internally he was struggling with himself, panicking still...he couldn't let that old man walk down there alone with Seth...it was in public, on the street, yes...and maybe Seth would let him go...they hadn't recognized them...maybe he would listen and let them go and just run afterward...but could he really think that? He knew Seth after all. He wouldn't take that chance... And once the agents were separated-

"You should go with them," he barely recognized his own voice, but hated nonetheless that that was the best he could come up with. Seth wasn't even in the room anymore so he didn't even have the excuse of being afraid that the ex con would attack the agents immediately if he warned them. E could tell Prentiss and she could go and make the arrest...

Except he couldn't move. Trying to felt like trying to move outside of his own skin, like he was tearing at his seams, at his core-

"Hey," he flinched when there was a light touch to his elbow. "Maybe you should sit down, you really don't look so good." He glanced up at her for a second, feverish, then past her shoulder. He couldn't look into her eyes, afraid she would start looking like JJ.

"Weren't you going to use the restroom?" he asked hoarsely.

He moved towards the table, reaching for one of the chair backs for support. Numbness was tingling in his fingertips, black spot dancing before his eyes.

Prentiss didn't answer, silently moving with him and sitting down in the chair opposite his. Spencer stared at the table's surface, tensely waiting for any sound from outside...anything...

"So..." Prentiss was pointetdly looking at the cellphone shed produced from her pocket, obvioulsy trying to sound casual, "Are you guys on a road trip or something like that?"

Somewhere, Specner knew what she was doing despite all the chaos in his brain, despite his anxiety and distraction. Theyd sepetarted them for a reason...so they were suspicious of soemthing...maybe he wouldnt need to tell her. Maybe theyd figured it out after all...but why wasnt she saying anythign to him then...?

"Uh, kind of..."

Why waste time? Weren't they sure? Had she just called back up on the phone? He found himself staring at the gadget, so similar to how his own had looked-

"Where are you headed?"

"Um...down...south." That much was for sure at least.

"Are you brothers?...you don't really look alike..."

"No. We're not."

He wondered when she would stop skirting around whatever she really wanted to ask, but when finally she did it still surprised him.

"Do you need help?"

xxx

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Cliffhanger^^

So, I was wondering, do you feel like there should be more on the problems Seth and Reid have in their relationship now...or do you just want me to get on with the plot? 

Please be so kind as to review. Thanks! xo


	32. Chapter 32

And finally another chapter. I know this has taken forever...it just wouldn't come for some reason. My guess (hope) is that it's because it's mostly filler...the bridge to the next part if you will.

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xxx

"Do you need help?" Agent Prentiss asked.

Spencer blinked, confusion breaking through the haze of distress that still had his claws in him.

It took his mind a frighteningly long moment to process her question at all. Then, bewilderment set in, along with more stress. Was she being serious? That was her question?

He'd been sitting here nearing a heart attack because he'd been sure that either she was convinced he needed help because he wasn't with Seth -their killer-, or, that he also needed to be arrested because he was. Everything was pointing towards it...the odd looks, separating them...but-

Why would she ask like that? Like she wasn't sure...

"Please," Prentiss said softly, reaching across the table, "don't take this the wrong way, but I've seen my share of unhealthy relationships and...we can take you with us to the station if you'd like. I can make up a reason so you don't have to tell-"

Spencer just stared at her, incredulous. Unhealthy relationships? What was she-

Oh.

When he finally understood, he felt a weight like lead drop off his shoulders...and right into his stomach.

She didn't know. Didn't realize.

She thought-

'Indications of domestic violence'.

Only then did he realize she kept looking over his hands, or more precisely, his wrists where they were still bandaged from his suicide attempt, the stark white peeking out from underneath his long sleeves. He pulled them back reflexively and her eyes went up to his face instead. Her expression didn't change much but it suddenly dawned on him that she looked worried for him. She wasn't seeing his sweating and pallor as signs of guilt but of fear and hurt.

That was what they had picked up on earlier, what had made them suspicious...They'd seen they way he had reacted to them and Seth in the same room and had concluded-

They had separated them because they thought Spencer would be afraid to tell on Seth with him there. Tell them about relationship troubles. Not murders.

They didn't know who they were.

The flicker of relief Spencer managed to feel at that was immediately suppressed by dread when his mind worked out the consequences of this. The agents were clueless - but they had certainly alarmed Seth with their behavior which meant Seth probably thought they were preparing to get Spencer out of here and he was more than likely already killing-

No! Icy panic filled his lungs once more. This was all wrong. Their lives were in danger and she didn't even realize, falsely worried about him- and he was going to get them killed.

"No...no, you need to go, now-" he stammered, finally horrified enough to get the words out.

He made to get up, but Prentiss held him back by his arm, insistent. It caused another flash off J.J's image to flare in front of his eyes and he flinched at the touch.

"Please, "Spencer shook his head in misery, cold sweat breaking on his brow as he tired to get his mouth to work, "You've got it all wrong...you need to go down there-"

He was fighting to get any real information past his lips, to open her eyes about Seth, but even now he just couldn't-

"It's alright," Prentiss said softly, easing her grip on him, "Agent Rossi is capable of holding his own...I'm more worried about you. You look terrible, and I think it's because-"

Her words were drowned out by the blood rushing through his ears. They were losing time, time she could use to help Rossi. Couldn't she see he was trying to warn her, all while that traitorous part inside him was still screaming at him to stay silent...

"I'm fine," he heard himself say, his mind fabricating up the response he knew she need to hear to leave, "I don't need help. Please, you really need to leave now...just take your partner and go. We can't help you."

He hadn't meant to say that. He did need help. He did need them to take him away. But he just couldn't- It was like his body was betraying him and he was unable to stop it from happening.

Prentiss looked at him for a tortuously long moment, unmoving, seemingly debating with herself. Then, just when Spencer thought he might crack under the building pressure of the conflict inside him, she suddenly nodded.

"Alright, if you're sure you're okay," she got up, grabbing her jacket, "I'm sorry if I imposed. I'll just use the restroom real quick and then I'll let you rest, okay?"

Spencer stared after her as she turned from him, forcing himself to stay still. He knew she wasn't convinced. It was all over her face and body language...but she was leaving the room, locking the door behind her...

The second the lock snapped shut Spencer spun towards the door, fueled by the very force that had locked down his limbs until then. He knew he only had moments until she came back but he needed to stop Seth! Maybe he'd be able to get down there before it was too late, before Seth made himself more suspicious or attacked Rossi...

He didn't dare think of what he would do if he was already too late, if Rossi was dead already...

He just spun around and was running towards the door before he'd thought his plan through, fumbling for the gun he still had on him.

He ripped the door open -only to run right into a solid body blocking the way. Spencer flailed and strong hands gripped him to hold him steady. They didn't let go once he was standing again, their grip tightening instead.

Seth was staring down at him out of dark eyes, his face a blank mask. Spencer felt the breath go out of him at the terrible familiarity of it, immediately left frozen again.

His gut twisted with dread when he looked but didn't see Agent Rossi behind Seth. Panicked, his eyes flickered over the other man's clothes and hands...he found no blood...still, it hardly did anything to bring down his pulse.

'Could have snapped his neck...'

"What did you do to him?" He could feel his mind shutter at the thought of Rossi lying dead in a ditch somewhere because of him and fought to compartmentalize, to keep himself together -a battle he was quickly losing. "Does he know?! Did you kill him?!"

'Of course he did', some cruel part of his brain whispered, 'he would have either way. And now he's going to kill her and you're going to stand by and watch like the pathetic shadow of yourself you've become, all because you're scared of losing him.' 

Spencer fought to draw air into his lungs as his mind screamed at him, heart rate spiking when they wouldn't swell. His clammy fingers clenched around the gun as he tried to get himself to lift it, to do the only appropriate thing.

'I don't want to do this.' 

Spencer squirmed uncomfortably, trying to give Seth his gun back but he just smirked and shook his head, then closed his hands around Spencer's and the gun. 

'You need to know enough to use it. So you can protect yourself.' 

'From what?' Spencer half joked, but didn't move as Seth walked around him and reached up to place his arms in the right position, helping him aim at a lonely cactus. 'Didn't you say you'd protect me?' 

Seth chuckled softly behind him, retracting one hand to cradle his head affectionately. Spencer let his eyes flutter shut momentarily, relaxing into the feeling of complete comfort and safety. 

'And who's going to protect you from me?' he heard Seth whisper, lips grazing his ear before pressing a quick kiss to his neck and then his hair. Spencer smiled as he turned in Seth's arms, letting the man hug him close."Seth..."

"Seth." The word tasted ashen in his mouth, like poison, and yet the unwanted memory left his heart and eyes stinging.

Seth didn't answer and only briefly acknowledged the gun in his hands. His eyes swept over the room and then over him instead. He didn't try to take it from him, keeping his hands were they were on Spencer's arms.

"Where's the woman?" he urged lowly, "Does she know?"

His eyes flickered to the bathroom door, the grim determination on his face briefly conquered by conflict, like he was debating whether to kill her or make a run for it.

Not like those were actual options. Seth wouldn't run...not if for one second he wasn't sure that Spencer would come with him.

"I won't," Spencer whispered, more to make it clear to himself than to Seth. His fingers clenched around the gun so hard his bones hurt and yet the exclamation lacked all ardor.

Seth looked down at him with his black eyes, still unmoving. Whatever he concluded Spencer meant, that he wouldn't go with him, wouldn't let him kill the agent, wouldn't survive this again...it didn't seem to change his resolution.

And why would it...he already knew Spencer didn't have it in him to pull the trigger.

Spencer felt devastation grip him, leaving him shaking uncontrollably. He was through. What would happen wasn't at all up to him. Even if he could have gotten himself to actually fight -if aiming a gun at Seth alone hadn't made him feel physically sick- he knew it wouldn't make a difference in the end. It was up to what Seth would do...if he'd kill Spencer all over again just to kill her.

Not that he wouldn't still have welcomed death...that he wouldn't have preferred it still over living knowing he was to blame for two more deaths, over staying with Seth after this. It wasn't himself he was desperate to save.

"She doesn't know," Spencer found words leaving his mouth, out of his control, shamefully aware that he was pleading rather than reasoning. "Let her walk out. Just-"

He knew he'd do almost anything to save at least the woman, probably even let Seth believe he would flee with him and not find a way to kill himself for good after this.

Before he could say anything more though, Seth grabbed hold of his shaking hands, stilling him.

Spencer half expected him to just grab the gun from him and push him aside because of how easy it would have been, but the man just looked down at him silently for a long moment, something unfathomable shining in his gaze.

"You didn't tell her?" he asked, searching Spencer's face with sharp eyes.

Spencer shook his head, too hard, and Seth nodded, features smoothing out ever so slightly, "Okay."

He moved to take the gun from Spencer then, but found it in a death grip, in fingers stony with tension.

"Spencer," Seth's hand wrapped around his wrist instead, the other falling on the back of his neck. Spencer flinched, breath hitching as he tried to pull away, but Seth still leaned in closer, hands gentle but firm.

"Calm down. He's not dead," he murmured, "He's waiting downstairs. Breathe, come on."

Spencer stared at Seth, eyes wide and still full of fear and pain. He was hearing the words and every fiber of him wanted to latch on to the hope in those words but- He couldn't tell if Seth was lying...afraid to let himself believe...

Of course Seth had no reason for saying that if it wasn't true. He could have just taken the gun and killed Prentiss without lying to him first. So...he hadn't killed Rossi? Wouldn't kill Prentiss? No, that couldn't be the truth-

Before he could come to a conclusion, suddenly the bathroom door opened behind them. Both of them tensed and Spencer gripped the gun more tightly automatically. Seth didn't move though, merely turning his head to watch Prentiss walk back out.

The agent's eyebrows creased when she caught sight of them by the door. Apparently, she couldn't see the gun between them though because she merely continued to look displeased with Seth's presence, not openly alarmed.

"I'm leaving you my card," she said as she walked passed the table again, "call if there's anything else you can think of."

She was looking at Spencer while she said it, clearly meaning him.

"Will do," Seth answered when Spencer didn't react at all, frozen in his hold. He gave her a smile which wasn't returned; outwardly calm while his fingers twitched around Spencer's wrist

Spencer stopped breathing, hyper alert as she came closer, just waiting for it all to go to hell after all. Seth's arm came up around him in what probably looked like a gesture of affection but really served to hide the gun as well as move him out of the way.

"You have a good day now."

Another nod and then the door closed behind her.

x

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And for once there isn't a cliffhanger. See if you like it better :)

So yeah, this was supposed to go on but then I probably never would have gotten it out so I'm making you put up with these depressingly short chapters. Sorry folks :S Next one will be some more background, some explanations are in order I think. And after that... :D

Hang in there folks! Oh and please let me know what you thought! Thanks! xo


	33. Chapter 33

Okay big surprise, I finished another chapter this week. 

It's because I found out that From Dusk till Dawn will be made into a TV Series :D 

And I'm so super excited! Has anyone heard about that yet? It's supposed to air next year I think...I doubt they could recast Clooney and Tarantino but still, OMG!...yeah so. If anyone knows Details or just wants to talk about that, please PM me. I have a shocking lack of FDTD fans in my RL.

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Xxx

"I don't know, Dave, something was just way off."

Emily Prentiss stepped into the police station where her team had set base two days ago, followed by her older colleague. She waved at the people around distractedly as she walked towards her assigned desk. "I want to check into that guy some more. I've got a bad feeling about him."

David Rossi nodded, face set into a lasting frown. "I know what you mean...but, Emily, he doesn't fit our profile. Our killer is alone. And we don't have time to waste on domestic disturbances right now, not when the next murder is probably only days away."

Emily nodded reluctantly.

She knew he was right. The BAU team was here to solve the murders related the Cabot Family, and they couldn't allow themselves to be sidetracked. With how little leads they had on location after looking at the prior crime scenes it had seemed like a good idea to go around the village and ask people if they had seen anything -or anyone- suspicious.

As it turned out though, the people here were not too keen on speaking with the American police. All they had been able to get was information on a few strangers that had passed through the village in the last few days, but it hadn't been much. It seemed no one liked to look twice or ask too many questions around here.

Finally, after all of their leads had turned out to be dead ends, a nervous-looking boy had approached them and told them about a stranger who was staying in his uncle's motel and who, to him, seemed the weird, if not the criminal type.

They hadn't been able to get details from him before he'd scurried off, but at least they'd had an address.

Which had lead them right to a very confusing situation.

They two men they'd just come back from interviewing...something had definitely been off about them. The younger one had looked downright terrified during all of their stay and the other one...

Prentiss couldn't quite out a finger on what it was that made her wary of him, other than soon realizing that the young guy seemed to be afraid of him, not them. He'd definitely had a dangerous aura to him, despite his overt friendliness.

Still, the more questions she'd asked the more it seemed like the problem was actually of the domestic sort. Still bad of course. But nothing to do with their case. It would hardly be plausible that their killer would bring along his affair to his killings, and the man seen at the border had been alone.

So, another dead end.

And yet, Emily couldn't stop thinking about those two men, the ways they'd looked at her respectively...that kid had looked so scared...

"I dunno, Dave," she murmured. Rossi seemed equally hung up on the incident, tapping his fingers on his desk pensively.

"Do you think he could be a hostage?" he pondered eventually, "That the kid somehow saw too much, or our UnSub just needed a place to hide and broke into his apartment? Maybe that's how he got hurt?"

"Why didn't he say anything then?" Emily shook her head, "He had the opportunity to, didn't he?"

"True. Still. Something's foul," Rossi nodded, "Something about the older guy. I feel like, like I've seen him before...but I can't put my finger on it."

"What's the problem, Rossi?" Unit Chief Derek Morgan chose that moment to walk through the door and over to them, "Something come up during the interviews?"

"We think so."

xxx

30 minutes earlier:

Seth and Spencer stood by the door motionlessly for at least another 30 seconds, both breathlessly listening to the echo of retreating footsteps in the hall.

Then, she was gone, and the tension that had kept Spencer up and still dissipated like smoke. He felt himself sag, a rush of air escaping him and along with it all the anxiety and misery he'd fought so hard to keep down until then. Legs giving out, he sank down against the wall and gripped his hair with shaking fingers as he stared at the floor.

As his fear faded, self-hate set in, immediate and unforgiving.

What had he done?

Gods...

He'd known that he was messed up, and dependent on Seth in a sick way...but he never would have thought he would fail himself like this. That he not only couldn't even let himself be saved from a situation that he was too weak to get out of by himself, but that he would put at risk the life of an innocent person, someone connected to the people he loved.

And he had.

There was no way that he could tell himself he had known Seth wouldn't kill them.

He hadn't.

In fact, he was still surprised by it now. No, they could have just as easily have been dead now and it would have been due to his inaction.

The debilitating nausea bordering on panic that he had been feeling since opening the door grew the more he realized what had happened, what this meant...what he had become.

He didn't realize he was grabbing strands of his hair so tightly he was threatening to pull them out and rocking himself against the wall, his breathing much too flat and shallow, until suddenly there were hands on his shoulders, stilling him.

Spencer flinched, all but throwing himself against the wall to get Seth's hands off of him. His fingers twitched around the trigger of a gun which wasn't there anymore. Dully, he realized that Seth must have taken it at some point without him even noticing...he tried to look up and find it but everything was blurry, Seth's silhouette nothing but a dark blotch in front of him.

Not that it mattered...she was gone now.

Yet, still he couldn't breathe. Instead, he felt like his chest was being crushed, all oxygen pressed out of him...

"Spencer-" He could hear Seth's pressed voice, drowned out by the blood rushing through his ears. "Fuck, don't do this again-"

Spencer almost wanted to laugh at the thought that Seth was telling him not to have a fucking panic attack right now, like it was his choice, like this was an unnecessary bother.

More than that he wanted to scream at him, actually scream for once -do something beside whimper and sway- for Seth to get the hell away from him. He wanted to tell him this was his fault...for scaring him half to death like that...for being the kind of man who could scare him like that in the first place-

He couldn't very well of course without air.

Not that there would have been a point. They'd been through all that. Seth knew what he was and no amount of accusations or tears would make him change-

Except...

Spencer blinked, forcing himself to hold onto something tangible, even if it was just a thought. She was safe. They were safe. Seth hadn't killed them.

Against instinct, he held his breath and waited for the panic to ebb away, slow.

Seth had let the agents go. He hadn't killed them when it would have been the smart, the easy, the cautious thing to do. The thing that the old Seth certainly would have done without a second thought.

But he hadn't.

When next Spencer tried to get air into his lungs he finally succeeded, greedily breathing in.

Close by, he could feel Seth relax, murmuring under his breath. His hands weren't on him anymore but his presence was so crushing that they might as well have been. He didn't move away again though...suddenly distracted by the very thought that had been supposed to be a distraction.

"W-"

He had to start over, his voice cracking over the words as he pushed them out, "Why didn't you kill them?"

Silence answered him. It was just as well because Spencer knew the answer even so.

Another half-laugh-half-sob escaped him, incredulous; he pressed his head to his knees and focused on regulating his breathing, anything not to have to think about that- terrified that he might actually start feeling grateful to Seth for not murdering two people if he wasn't careful. It wasn't beyond him anymore.

"Why didn't you tell them anything?" Seth asked and Spencer closed his eyes, a tear sliding down his cheek.

He didn't bother with a reply either, just chuckled wryly to himself. Gods, they were both beyond help.

Seth stood somewhere above him, silent, his eyes burning a hole into his skull but he didn't ask the question again. He, too, seemed to already have his answer.

No one moved then for a very long time -or maybe just a minute?

Finally, Seth spoke, his voice softer now, and eerily collected. "We need to go."

Spencer blinked and looked up. The room was a mess, clothes and other items all over the bed and floor. Seth's suitcase was open on the bed, half packed.

Not a minute then...

He tried to focus, to pull himself out of the static filling his brain.

We need to go.

He nodded, numb. The voice in the back of his head that was screaming protest was barely audible anymore now. All that was left was bone deep exhaustion laced with occasional spikes of anxiety. They had to leave, he knew...the agents had been suspicious and if they came back, no, when they came back, it wouldn't end so peacefully.

He needed to move, get up. This wasn't about him anymore, about whether he wanted to go, or stay, or spite Seth. They needed to be gone before Prentiss showed up here with JJ or Morgan and Spencer would have to find out if he'd be able to fight Seth for them.

He forcefully pushed down the thought of his old team...the idea that they might be close. He'd already resolved himself to never seeing them again.

He knew it was doing them a favor.

They would never know of this.

The car ride was silent and Spencer blanked out during most of it, his mind wandering off to rest somewhere else. It was nighttime when they stopped and Seth booked them into yet another rundown motel, one a little out of the way this time.

Spencer sat down on the edge of the bed and just stared into space while Seth did his usual routine of securing the rooms. It was only then, sitting there in the darkness with thoughts swirling around his head that he had taken care not to hold onto for the entire ride, that something occurred to him.

"There's someone after you," he said into the dark without preamble. The thought was there, clear and solid in front of him, dancing in the stale air.

He hadn't thought of it anymore with everything else going on but now he remembered. Seth had killed two men -at least- who were connected to a crime family in the US. The only reason he would have done that if he knew them. More precisely if they knew him and were about to expose him as being alive. Seth wouldn't just have killed someone for another reason, even for old revenge...he was too careful for that, too bent on keeping up the secret life they led.

So, someone was looking or him, sending people to find him...

"Who is it?" he asked, feeling worryingly detached.

It occurred to him very distantly that he should find it more upsetting that Seth hadn't told him, but then...was it really a surprise? Was he really going to keep pretending to himself that he didn't know exactly who Seth was and what he did?

He heard Seth moving behind him, then the mattress dipped and he wasn't alone anymore. The older man was quiet for a long moment, maybe unsure about how to speak to him, how to approach this. Spencer didn't care; he just waited.

"His name is Joe Cabot." Seth finally said, testily, "That night...the man I killed was one of his. He had recognized me...Richie and I did a couple of jobs for Joe a couple of years ago. We...Richie still owes him. I knew he would report back to Joe if I didn't do something, so-"

"And the second one?"

"Must have been sent to find out what happened to the first guy."

Spencer blinked once, slowly. "There's someone else coming."

"He won't find us." A hand fell on his shoulder, too heavy and warm. As calm as Seth had tried to appear, his touch revealed the lie. "Spencer," Seth's voice turned more urgent when he didn't react, calm suddenly broken. "Spencer. I'll keep you safe."

The words almost made him smile, reminding him of a lifetime ago when Seth had promised him that he would be safe...that he would be okay if he stayed with him.

And now...he would never be okay, and the worst part was he didn't even care anymore.

He didn't care that the words obviously weren't true.

The BAU had found them.

Cabot likely would too. But, what could he take other than his life? His mouth twitched, a low, bitter sound escaping.

"Safe from what?" he asked the darkness, voice barely above a whisper.

The words hung in the air in front of him, the letters deformed and dripping to the ground like rain. He watched them with fascination, one hand coming up tentatively to touch. Everything else was slowly slipping away and he didn't try to hold onto it. He wanted it all gone. All of their faces, all of it. Darkness was beckoning him and he was too tired to stay awake any longer.

As though through a haze he felt Seth's arms wind around him from behind. Seth's breathing was off, his grip around his waist and shoulders too tight. His chest was moving against Spencer's back.

He closed his eyes and went away.

xxx

"It's him!"

The BAU team jumped, startled out of doing their own individual tasks when Agent Rossi suddenly shot up from his desk, shouting.

"Wha-?" JJ blinked, tiredly rubbing her eyes. Morgan and Prentiss looked to their oldest team member with a mix of curiosity and alarm. "What now?"

"The guy! Emily, the-" Rossi broke off, furiously typing something into his computer instead. The rest of the team gathered around him, alarmed.

"I knew I'd seen him somewhere before but I couldn't put it together! Rossi exclaimed, "Now I know where I've seen him!"

He turned the screen around for everyone to see hastily. The page he'd opened displayed the Unites States Most Wanted list, pictures and information about the worst criminals out there.

"Oh my God," Prentiss gasped when she saw the picture Rossi was pointing at.

Staring back at them out of bottomless black eyes was Seth J. Gecko.

xxxx

Okay, so I hope this made sense...I know it's still a long shot for them to find Seth and Reid and not recognize them but they were looking for the killer and people in the village must have found Seth suspicious...so yeah. I wont get anymore plausible than this, sorry folks.

So I'm done with the filler. I was going to have Reid freak out and yell at Seth some more but then it kind of felt like he was done. Man, I feel so bad for him right now...he's just slipping. Let's see if in the next chapters we can't give him something to pull himself together for again, shall we?^^

One more Thing...I know I've been saying this but: I'm happy you're reading and enjoying this but will PEOPLE PLEASE REVIEW? I'd really love some feedback for this, just anything really so I know People are reading. It would mean a lot. Thanks!


	34. Chapter 34

Believe it or not, I seem to be on a roll here. I blame procrastination. I'm supposed to be doing important school work. But, psst ;)

Thanks to everybody for your support! I hope this counts as thanks even if it's a little short^^

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x

"No." Derek Morgan shook his head harshly, unwilling to believe what was in front of him. "No. Seth Gecko is dead!"

He glanced over at JJ who stood there, just as shocked and pale, staring at the Wanted poster of a dead man.

"Missing." she murmured after a long moment, her lips trembling, "They never found his body."

"It was him," Emily insisted agitatedly, "Morgan, he was right in front of us. That's the guy! God damnit, that's why he seemed so familiar...I saw him on the most wanted list months ago but I didn't-"

She shook her head in frustration and Rossi put a hand on her shoulder in understanding; he hadn't put it together either.

And now...she looked at the faces of her co-workers, how tense they suddenly looked. She knew Seth Gecko and his brother were to blame for the deaths of half the original BAU team, she'd read his name on a file somewhere once. But it had been before her and Rossi's time and none of the other team members really ever talked about that traumatic incident, so that and what the media coverage had revealed at the time was really all she knew.

"So he made it out then?" she suggested carefully.

While JJ was still white with shock she could already see the first traces of anger seeping into Morgan's expression as the realization sunk in that the man responsible for his friends' deaths might still be out there.

"But how?" JJ shook her head, disbelieving, "We had confirmation that they were all there in that bar...the Gecko brothers and- and it all burned to the ground. Everything. They couldn't even find bones or teeth-"

She broke off, her voice quivering dangerously as she recalled the details of what had happened.

"Maybe there was nothing to find," Rossi took over for her, "Maybe he's been hiding out in Mexico this whole time. It would explain the odd behavior earlier. He knew who were were when we told him we were BAU. Gods, Emily...he could have easily-"

He broke off and the room lapsed into silence as they all tried to order their thoughts and emotions.

Eventually Morgan fell into action.

"Show me to the hotel," he demanded, his eyes black and hard. His hand was tightly clutching the revolver at his side, something both Emily and Rossi noticed with some worry.

"Morgan, maybe we should let a SWAT team-"

"No!" Morgan growled instantly, "That son of a bitch is out there right now, after he killed my friends, my family! I'll be the one to bring him down and if it's the last thing I do."

He was shaking with emotions by then, rage and pain clearly overriding any logic.

"You weren't there, you don't know what he did!" He ripped his wallet out of his pocket and shoved it into their faces, showing them four little faded paper copies of pictures that looked like they had been cut out of the obituary section of a newspaper. "These people were everything- and he took them! He doesn't get to live with that for one more minute!"

All three agents stared at him wide-eyed, but while JJ reacted with pain and worry, Prentiss and Rossi were suddenly focusing on the pictures instead of him.

Greenaway, Reid, Gideon, Hotchner...they had heard of all of them of course, in Rossi's case, he had even known Hotchner when he was younger -but this was the first time both of them actually, really looked at a picture of the other three dead agents.

Or more specifically, the picture of Dr. Spencer Reid.

"Cavolo!" Rossi's mouth fell open while Emily slapped a hand over her mouth, shocked.

"Oh my god," she whispered, "No...no, that can't be."

"What?" JJ asked, alarmed but Emily just kept shaking her head.

"He was there," Rossi finally managed to get out, pointing at Reid's picture, "the kid...we just saw him. He was with Seth Gecko."

JJ and Morgan both stared at him at that, first like they didn't understand, then like he'd lost his mind, and finally with their original expressions of pain and anger.

"Reid is dead," JJ swallowed around the words like she was truly fighting down tears now; she was shaking her head, seemingly without noticing.

Morgan had gone completely still, like he was in shock. It was obvious neither of them were even close to prepared for what they were being told.

Rossi did all of them the favor of scrutinizing the picture in Morgan's wallet once more even though he had already been sure on the first look.

"It was him. He was thinner and his hair was different, but it was him."

He waited for a reaction but when one didn't come he turned to Emily, talking to her for the moment. It was obvious the others needed time to process, but time wasn't really there in abundance if they were right.

"If he was there it has to mean that he and Gecko both got out of that bar alive somehow."

"But that was months ago," Emily frowned, "Why wouldn't he have let anyone know he was alive? Or come back? Why stay with Gecko?"

"I think you were right...with the way they were acting just now it was obvious that Dr. Reid was under duress. We have to assume that Gecko is keeping him there against his will, and probably has something to blackmail him to keep him from seeking help."

Rossi watched as JJ sank into a chair, shaky, and Emily walked over to put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

He continued. "It makes sense. Except for one thing: What does Gecko want with him? Why would he let him live, why keep him with him all this time? It can't be about money...he hasn't asked for more."

He looked to Emily who also seemed at a loss for answers.

Both of them were ripped out of their musings when suddenly Morgan broke out of his stupor only to shout intelligibly and slam his fist into the wall violently.

Everybody jumped, staring at him in shock. Morgan was staring at the wall, eyes livid, breathing through gritted teeth. He was shaking, seemingly with rage, and cursing under his breath over and over, shaking his head.

"No." he panted, "No, that can't- No!"

xxx

Derek Morgan was losing it.

He had barely kept himself together after his team members had told him that Seth Gecko, the man responsible for his closest friends' deaths, was still alive and free, living it up somewhere in Mexico.

The rage and hatred that had filled him then was not gone now -but completely overshadowed by the horror born out of the realization that Spencer might still be alive.

Alive.

The idea was almost too much to wrap his head around after all the days he'd spent standing over the young mans grave, of working so hard to accept that he was gone.

The grief of thinking that he had believed his best friend to be dead for months while he had been out there was nothing though compared to the horror he felt at the idea that Reid had been with Seth Gecko this entire time.

He didn't want to believe that -but how could he not? He had to believe Prentiss and Rossi. And if Gecko had somehow gotten out, it was possible that Reid had, too...

Escaped. Only to-

To think that he had been trapped somewhere this entire time, with that man...the hell he must have gone through, all while no one was even looking for him, while he was completely at the mercy of the man who had already killed so many others, who had-

He barely heard Prentiss and Rossi debating over a possible reason for why Gecko might have kept Reid with him instead of just leaving or even killing him.

His mind was rapidly filling with memories of those final days, of his time in the hospital...of that last phone call he'd had with Hotch.

He hadn't thought of it again since then, at least not when he'd been able to help it. The reality of Reid's death had been painful enough without thinking about what might or might not have happened to him at the hands of the Gecko brothers before his death. He'd told himself it didn't matter because he would never know, all of them were long gone.

Now though, his fears from that night quickly returned, brutally vivid.

~"We found them, Morgan. Richard Gecko is dead. Seth Gecko is detained and Reid is safe."

"How is he? Is he alright?"

"He's as well as could be expected. Beaten up and bloody, but walking and talking. The way he's acting suggests trauma though."

"Those bastards. What did they do to him?"

"I don't know, Morgan, I haven't asked him yet and I'm not sure I should do it now. If you'd seen him you'd know what I mean. He says he's fine but you know Reid. I don't know what he's been through."

There was silence for a moment, then, "Have they- Hotch, did they…?"

Morgan didn't finish the sentence but Hotch could hear from his tone what he was asking. "I don't know. There are just too many injuries and bruises to tell what they are from. Seth Gecko implied something but Reid hasn't confirmed anything."~

Morgan wanted to throw up.

He had always pushed the memory of what Hotch had implied then far away, unable to deal with the idea that Reid might have not only been terrorized and beaten, but-

„We have to find him," he gasped.

He snapped out of his trance completely, finally, looking at Rossi with burning eyes. His heart was racing, his entire body twitching with the need to go, go, go, NOW. 

Rationally, he knew it was too late now.

Reid had been with that man -murderer, psycho, monster- for months. Everything could and would have already happened to him -still, he couldn't fight the urge to run out and find him now, bring him to safety... and kill Seth Gecko today. To not wait one second longer.

It had been far too long already.


	35. Chapter 35

"Morgan, we need to take a break. Go back to the station, regroup. We need to inform Strauss about what we're doing-"

"No." Morgan didn't even look at Prentiss as they hastened back to the jeep.

They had just returned from the information desk of what seemed like the hundredth motel in the area -again without any results. They had searched for Seth Gecko and Spencer Reid the remainder of the day and the whole night through after they had found their motel room abandoned. Now, it was the next day, afternoon almost, and there was still no trace of them.

Gecko had probably run the second they'd been out the door, and taken Reid with him. She still didn't know, as hard as she thought about it, why Spencer Reid hadn't said anything to them, just like she didn't know why Gecko had simply let them go...there was a lot that didn't make sense, but they were so busy running around that she'd hardly had time to think about it.

"Call JJ and Rossi again, see if they have anything," Morgan demanded, completely ignoring Prentiss' hints that what they were doing was unsuccessful.

He hadn't stopped to catch his breath in over 20 hours, the original case all but forgotten now that he knew Reid was alive. Prentiss watched him with worry as they got into the car and he pulled into the street a little too fast, without looking. She could understand his agitation; she knew how close the original team had been.

And Seth Gecko's criminal history didn't make things any better.

Morgan had asked them about Reid's state when they had seen them and she had been deliberately vague, not sure how much information he'd be able to take. Dr. Reid had looked bad off -but what worried her more was how he and Gecko had interacted. She had immediately guessed that they were in a relationship. Combined with what she knew now, that idea seemed especially grueling. She just hoped shed been wrong.

Either way, she sure as hell wouldn't bring it up with Morgan.

The man seemed half mad already, clearly in need of a break but not even thinking in that direction.

"Maybe they're at the station," she tried again, "We should go-"

"No," Morgan snapped, once more, cutting her off in a way that was uncharacteristic for the usually cool and suave man, "No. We can't. He knows that we know, Emily. God knows what he's doing to Reid right now."

xxx

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xxx

Seth didn't know what to do.

The room was shady and quiet around him, too dark considering the bright afternoon outside; the headboard of the motel bed dug uncomfortably into his back and yet had hadn't moved in what seemed like hours.

Spencer was lying with his back to him, either still sleeping or just staring at the drawn curtains...or possibly at nothing. He hadn't said a word since the night before and if it wasn't for the slight movement of his shoulders Seth might have thought he was dead.

Seth had been left alone with his thoughts, not that it had been very productive.

He knew what he should be doing of course -there wasn't any shortage when it came to damage control to be done in his life.

He should be thinking about how to evade more of Joe Cabot's men before they found him.

He should be thinking about how to make sure the FBI didn't find them here. They most certainly were looking for them, that he was sure of. Just because that woman and the old guy hadn't put it together when they'd met didn't mean that they hadn't long figured it out by now. His face had been all over the news just months ago and Spencer- God damnit, their team had worked with Spencer.

No, they were looking.

Probably had been since yesterday afternoon. And yet, he'd wasted a whole 24 hours doing exactly nothing, just sitting around uselessly in a motel room which was definitely not far enough away from their prior one.

He couldn't help it.

Seth had always prided himself on his ability to stay focused and collected in any situation, no matter how much shit he was in. This time though, he felt like he was petrified.

He'd spent the entire night staring at Spencer who had remained frighteningly still, and all but unresponsive, completely withdrawn into himself. He'd pulled away and left Seth there helpless and miserable.

It wasn't right, was all he kept thinking.

Spencer should be beside himself with anger, and grief, and fear...anything. He should be yelling at him, trying to...well, do anything really. But instead he was still just lying there without asking any more about the criminals presumably out there looking for them -or about his team.

It was scaring Seth. Not because he didn't understand what was going on but because he did.

It was understandable for Spencer's body to protect itself after the stress he had been put through with the BAU's arrival. He had been bad off even before that and his nerves had clearly been stretched to the limits during that confrontation -but for him to simply not care at all anymore was a frightening development.

Seth ground his teeth, fighting the urge to grab and shake the young man for probably the dozenth time now. He knew that he wouldn't be able to make anything better -not when he was the reason for this. He, or more precisely what Spencer had done because of him.

Spencer had covered for him. He still couldn't quite believe it now, but he had. He hadn't told the agents anything, hadn't given him up, apparently hadn't even warned them to anything- all while he had clearly been convinced that Seth would kill them to keep his secret.

Seth knew that that, more than any other stressor, was the reason for Spencer's behavior now. It was obvious that he had been just as shocked by his actions as Seth.

After all, it was one thing to stop trying to get away from Seth and their life -Seth knew that Spencer likely had told himself Seth wouldn't let him go anywhere, but it was obvious that he needed him as much as he despised him. He had never said anything, content to have Spencer back for whatever reason; he'd simply pushed the nagging feeling of guilt for knowing he'd caused that dependance in the first place to the far back of his mind.

It wasn't what he wanted...seeing Spencer that miserable had made him feel sick. What he had wanted was how they been before.

He'd told himself that in time he would fix what was wrong, that they would get back to that somehow, that in time Spencer would heal.

Now though, he couldn't even try to convince himself anymore.

He had but to look at Spencer to see that he was utterly destroyed and in no way getting better. Whether he might or might not have if it hadn't been for the BAU'S visit was irrelevant -it had happened and the fallout was clearly beyond devastating to Spencer.

He'd basically chosen him over the two agents...risked their deaths even and spoiled a fair chance at ending his ordeal. All so Seth wouldn't go to jail or be killed...so they wouldn't be separated.

Realizing that that was what was happening had stopped him dead in his tracks right there in the doorway the day before. He'd barely paid attention to the gun, pretty sure that Spencer wouldn't actually kill him; in his mind he'd already planned the best way to get the young man out of there without another hostage crisis. He'd been prepared to find Spencer refusing to go, or even trying to get him arrested...but looking into Spencer face he had immediately known that that wasn't going to happen.

He'd also seen why.

Exhilaration and crushing guilt had washed over him all at once at that. Spencer wanting and needing him -as badly as this- was all he'd ever hoped for. But the second he saw it there, he'd known just how wrong it was...just what he had done.

It didn't matter that he had decided even before coming back to the motel room that he wouldn't kill the agents if it could be helped because he didn't want to see Spencer in any more pain, consequences be damned.

He'd made Spencer give up the last thing that was still inherently his, the last part of his entity that he hadn't been ashamed and terrified of. The last bit of resistance. He'd made him realize the full extent of his love for a man that he despised.

He had what he'd wanted all along: All of Spencer.

And yet, now he had nothing. He'd destroyed everything.

And so, with that knowledge weighing on his chest, he lied there with burning eyes amongst the ashes of his dreams.

'I'm sorry,' he moved his lips but let no sound escape, knowing that Spencer wouldn't want to hear, 'I never meant-'

He'd never wanted this.

He loved Spencer. He wanted him happy and whole and at peace. He'd done everything to make that happen since he'd figured it out. He had left behind his old life, his prospects in El Ray, his contacts, his whole identity and he had tried to become someone that could make another person happy, that could build a life for them and be worthy of someone's love. He had tried so hard to fix both Spencer and himself, to make something out of nothing.

And now he had them, the fruits of his efforts. Spencer loved him and it was the very thing that was finally giving him the killing blow.

If there was a way to fix that, he didn't see it.

Was there even a point in running or fighting anymore if there was no hope left? Why try to take Spencer somewhere else if he was like this, unable to live with Seth? The thought would have never had a Chance with him before but now...

With the BAU team he might be safer from Cabot's man...it wasn't just about them anymore. Seth would be a hunted man soon. A dead man maybe. Maybe if Spencer left before that-

But, Spencer didn't want to go back to the team, or at least he was telling himself he didn't want to. And Seth didn't know if it would make him better if he was forced to...if he could be helped there or if he needed him too much already to lose him now, if it would be better or worse if he stayed.

Spencer certainly didn't seem to want to give him ayn more input on that matter...and he knew that he himself certainly shouldn't be making that decision. He was having a moment of clarity now, but who knew how long it would be before his own selfishness won out again?

.

.

~You've got me pretty deep, baby  
I can't figure out your watery love  
I got to solve your mystery  
You're sitting it out in heaven above~

.

.

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So this was kinda just depessing sorry bout that...I just wanted something from Seth's POV again, it had been a while. So yet...sadness all around. About why Reid wont just leave Seth and get help elsewhere: Yes, of course he 's a really bad case of Stockholm Syndrome I guess. Plus, remember that if he did go back to the team, he would have to tell them, Hayley and Jack, that he killed Hotch, and that he was sleeping with the man that got the whole team killed...and that he still loves him even now that he knows. If it was me I'd be conflicted too...sometimes logic just isn't enough :(

Song by the Sex Pistols, Sub Mission. (I have so many songs that I want to go with the chapters, I'm trying to fit them all in now...I hope that won't get annoying.)

OH and I messed up somehow editing the chapters, so if you can't post a signed Review on this chapter for some reason, it's my fault. Please consider an "anonymous" one. Thanks :)

xoxo


	36. Chapter 36

Hey :) Sorry not an actual update this time :S

I have the plot for the next chapters all lined up, just the current one is giving me some trouble. I thought maybe someone could help?

Thing is: Now that I've spent so much time getting Spencer to break down and kinda lose it...I don't know how to get him out of it. Obviously he cannot completely get over it (at least not in a short time and without professional help) but I Kind of need him functioning and at least pulling himself together a little for the plot of the next few chapters :/

SO...does aynone happen to know what one could actually do in a situation like this? Cause I'm just as clueless as Seth. Spencer's shut off all those painful thoughts and emotions for the time being...but it's his only way to escape so why would he come back? 

Is there anything Seth could have success with if he tried it? Anything he could say?

If anyone had any answers or even suggestions that would be awesome! Please PM me or something! Thanks!

In the meantime, I'm working on the chapter after the next already which is easier again :))

xoxo


	37. Chapter 37

Hello everyone! So this took longer than I wanted it too and I'm still not sure I'm happy with it, but well, it's the best I can do for now. Thanks to the lovely people who contacted me and offered to help. I hope this is plausible to you all. :)

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~I wanted you to know I love the way you laugh.  
I want to hold you high and steal your pain away.~

xxx

Derek Morgan was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel of his car impatiently. Prentiss had insisted they drive back to their hotel for at least five minutes so she could get a change of clothes. Morgan had only relented reluctantly; they had no time to lose. Reid was out there somewhere and they needed to find him.

"Damnit, Prentiss, hurry up," he cursed under his breath while staring at the hotel's front.

The ringing of his phone startled him and he all but lunged for it. "Any news?"

JJ answered him, "Yes, Morgan...we think we have confirmation of the whereabouts of Cabot's man. He was sighted-"

"JJ, I can't deal with that now," Morgan interrupted. He knew it was his job to work their current case, but she had to understand- "I have to find Reid."

He almost expected her to lecture him but she merely sighed heavily, "I know, Derek. Rossi and I have been working the Cabot case while you were out there...but I think...Derek, I think Cabot's man could lead us to Gecko. And to Spence. He was sighted one town over in an area that has a lot of motels, driving around and checking out places. I think he's close to finding them-"

"Where?" Suddenly Morgan was all ears.

JJ told him the exact location and also gave him the updated description of the man. "You and Emily should come back to the station now. Rossi and I are mobilizing all available police force to go and scope out the area but it's going to take a while with a PD this small and that many motels-"

"Yeah." Morgan didn't even listen any further. He'd heard what he needed to. He hung up and started the engine, then drove out onto the street. He couldn't wait for Prentiss. He couldn't wait for the police to be ready.

One hour later, he was at the given destination. His phone was ringing incessantly by then but he ignored it, watching the streets instead as he drove through the little town. It was just as cluttered and crowed as the last one -but he drove by every single motel until finally, when the sun was already setting, he spotted him.

The man was well disguised and obviously pretty good at being inconspicuous but Morgan recognized him anyway. Dark hair, light skin, mean features. He was also sitting in his car, watching one of the last places that Morgan hadn't checked out yet. Waiting for something, it seemed. Nightfall, most likely.

Morgan cursed under his breath, but made himself park at some distance. He couldn't just walk into that motel and start looking for Reid as long as that man was there. It was too risky...plus it was still also his job to catch him. He would have to wait for him to make his move, to go to Gecko, so he could arrest both of them at the same time.

Settling in, he grabbed his phone to make the needed calls to alarm the others to his find, only to realize that his battery had apparently died some time ago. Damn it, he forced himself to remain calm and not slam the goddamn thing into the window. He should have thought to recharge it in the last 20 hours but he had been too distracted...

Well, maybe the police would show up before anything happened. If not, he would handle it himself.

He wasn't leaving and risking losing the UnSubs and Reid again.

Xxx

Seth stood by the window and watched the red sun disappear behind the houses outside. Nightfall would mark his 36th hour without sleep. He was halfway through a once full bottle of whiskey -by far not enough.

He had been pacing for a good part of the last hour, unable to calm himself.

Something -someone- was approaching, and fast, he could feel that in his bones. He'd counted all the rounds in his gun several times -just to be prepared- but that hadn't helped to calm him in the least.

He found himself hoping Cabot's man would show up first...shooting him might do something to ease that disgusting sensation of helplessness he was feeling...

Not that it would be any good if he did. The BAU would only have one more thing to pin on him when they arrived. And them, he couldn't kill.

Well, he could, wanted to even, but if he did that-

Guilt hooking its claws back into him, he turned around to see Spencer still lying on the bed, unmoved.

As apathetic as he seemed now, Seth doubted he would stay that indifferent if Seth killed his team. No, if he did that he might as well put a bullet in Spencer's head.

Not that Spencer probably wouldn't appreciate that at this point.

Seth's hands clenched to fists by his sides in helpless anger.

He'd never felt this hopeless, this out of options.

If he wanted to get out of here with Spencer he would likely have to go up against some of the agents and police...they were probably setting up roadblocks and handing out his wanted poster while he was sitting here. He might get out of the city anyways, but it would probably be bloody.

And even if somehow he managed it, the whole country would be out looking for him, chasing him. Even if he killed the BAU...he'd inevitably be on the run afterward.

Under different circumstances, he could have dealt with even that -he'd spent a large part of his life on the run- but he didn't think he could leave...not without Spencer. And Spencer clearly wasn't going anywhere.

Rubbing his eyes in exasperation, Seth moved around the bed and sank down on the mattress, sitting by Spencer's hip. The young man didn't acknowledge him, didn't even blink.

Seth pressed his eyes shut, fighting to stay calm.

He had waited, hour after tortuous hour for Spencer to become lucid again and by now he was just itching to actually shake Spencer to make him snap out of his trance.

But he knew he couldn't. Seth wasn't a doctor but he had seen this sort of thing before.

Dissociation.

Years ago, after Richie had been assaulted by their last foster father the same had happened to him; his mind had simply shut down, leaving him near catatonic. The doctors had explained to Seth that dissociation was the brain's way of protecting itself, that that sort of blank numbness was a way of escaping an inescapable situation.

His mind had made him stop thinking about something that was unbearable. Seth couldn't shake him out of it; he needed the escape to keep intact whatever remained of him now.

He would need professional help to get better. A doctor. Someone to help him work through his trauma in a gradual and healthy way. Not someone who would drag him back on the road and force him to be part of a police chase across the country. He needed to be as far away as possible from the kind of stress that had caused his condition in the first place, and from the person whose fault it was.

Seth knew that, knew it on an intellectual level -and yet part of him was still calculating how to best kill Cabot's man and planning an escape route-

The mere thought of leaving, of letting Spencer go made everything in him scream and revolt. Even as the logical part of his brain was supplying that Spencer could be best helped if the BAU found him, the rest of his mind was throwing crazy yet terribly insistent thoughts in its way like sticks and stones. Ideas of how he could help Spencer get better if only they got away from all this. If he found a place where no one could find them again, where Spencer wouldn't be reminded of his past ever again. Of how it could all still work out if only he tried hard enough.

It took everything he had to not let those thoughts take over completely. In the end, it was only the memory of his brother that kept him thinking rationally.

Richie hadn't gotten professional help. Seth had tried his whole life to fix his brother and he would never forget how miserably he had failed at that. He'd loved his brother -different from how he loved Spencer and yet with a similar intensity- but his love hadn't made up for therapy.

For a second, he entertained the idea of finding a doctor somewhere on the run. Someone to work with the kid...but no, that was ridiculous. The FBI would be hunting them, he would never be able to get that done without them finding out. Not that Spencer probably wouldn't just relapse every time he saw Seth because Seth was his fucking trigger.

Seth let his shoulders sag, leaning his head on his hands. He had thought of every possible option...there weren't any good ones. There was only bad, and then there was worse.

He sat and breathed into his hands, for how long he didn't know, before he could make himself look up and around at Spencer again.

"I don't think I can do this," he murmured to the unresponsive man. "There's not even a choice and still I can't-"

Despite himself, he reached out and touched Spencer's cheek. Desperate, or maybe hopeful...he didn't know. Everything in him just ached to pull Spencer close and closer and not let go, but at the same time even this tiny touch seemed like a trespass.

At his touch, Spencer's eyelids fluttered slightly and he shifted his head minimally. The little motion felt like a vice clamping around Seth's heart...reminding him of how Spencer would lean into him... he had so often...before... Just thinking about it now seemed to press the remaining air out of his lungs.

"I wish..." Seth felt his throat closing up even as words fought to claw their way out, overwhelming him, "...I think...if I had all been different...if-"

He made himself stop before he could finish that sentence. No. He wouldn't do this to himself, or Spencer. Things weren't different. He wasn't different. He was exactly who he was and there was no other way this thing could have ended. He had known it.

"I'm sorry," he said instead, again, even though it was of no more use. "I tried...I wanted so badly for this to work. To fix my mistakes. I should have seen...shouldn't have-"

There was really no point in talking to someone who wasn't listening, but somehow Seth just needed to get the words out, to say them to Spencer. Somehow this all just felt so terribly final. Like the night he had tried to talk to his dead brother...when it had been much too late for him to hear...

He stroked Spencer's hair, trying hard not to think of Richard any longer, but unable to help see the ironic parallel. Ridiculous. He was just ridiculous.

"Second time around," he huffed hoarsely, "and I haven't learned a thing. Pathetic, I know."

He looked down into Spencer's perfect, passive face, once more caught in his lovely features, the cheekbones, the tiny trace of freckles on his nose from the Mexican sun, the barely visible creases around the corners of his mouth that would show only when he smiled.

He would never see that again, would he?

"I meant it," he found himself whisper, "...when I said I love you."

God, he should have said it before it was too late, before the words could only still add to Spencer's pain. He had known for so long but he'd been afraid...of himself, of Spencer's reaction...and now it was too late.

Spencer wasn't sure if he was dreaming or hallucinating. Where there had been nothing but pleasant, empty oblivion just moments before, impressions were now filtering in again, almost startlingly bright and tangible.

They pushed against his mind, against some invisible barrier that he became aware of only then, and even so, vaguely. There was sound, sensation...consciousness somewhere behind that barrier and while a large part of him shied away from it, immediately seeking the void once more, another part of him was slowly drifting towards awareness. It felt odd, being torn like that, part of him there while another was...not. It was uncomfortable and he wanted to give in to sleep once more...but something kept him from it...

It wasn't an easy task, gathering what was needed to sort through and focus the random, floating fragments of his self until he remembered enough, felt enough to register anything outside. Even then though, it felt like an out of body experience. He became vaguely aware of his body, that his eyes were open...the motel room...someone's touch and voice...something being said, something important...

It was that, the voice, that was tethering him, he realized. Warm and familiar, flowing through him as a source of comfort that kept him away from the dark. There were words, floating by him but they were harder to hold on to and he wasn't sure he wanted to. He could still feel the horror lurking at the edges of his mind, a dark presence just waiting to take over again the second he let it. It scared him on a primal level...creating a pull from two sides...

He couldn't resurface.

He didn't want to think, or feel. He hadn't been able to breathe like this in an eternity. It felt so nice to finally just be breathing. But...

"I love you. I know I have the worst way of showing it, and that you think it's bullshit...that I'm insane, obsessed...but I know...I'd know the difference. I want...need you...but I think...I know now that if it was between me...and you never smiling again...I'd rather-"

The words were few and far between, still not making much sense in his head, just catching on to the ragged edges of his mind to simmer somewhere in the darkness...stored away...piling up...

"I know you hate me for saying it at all...that it reminds you- But you won't have to hear it much more often and I...just know that...I would have tried...loving you the right way...if I had known how. I know all I did was hurt you and make you feel like it's all your fault somehow. It isn't. It's not your fault, Spencer. None of this. You had no choice...even when you thought you did. You didn't ask to be made to feel this way. I know there's some technical term for what's happened to you in that big brain of yours. You...you need to think of that. Remind yourself that you didn't...wouldn't have wanted this. It's not your fault you got kidnapped. Your team didn't die because of you. They died because of fucking vampires...Richie...and me."

Something about that finally did catch on then, dark and frightening but too big, too much too fully ignore...

He could feel something inside him grow tense, pushing at the numbing warmth wrapping his mind...

"You tried everything, Spencer...you fought, every step of the way. You tried everything to save them...Hotchner and...Gideon...the woman. You wouldn't have given in- It just wasn't a fair fight. I know it hurts...and feels...wrong...but you can't blame your mind for trying to protect you."

Gentle fingers, running through his hair. The voice from above sounded sad, broken almost, he began to realize.

"Maybe...maybe you need to hear them say it...Morgan, is it? Or your mom. If...only I was sure they could help you...maybe...but I don't know if that would make it easier...if it would make me any less selfish..."

Morgan.

Mom. 

The thoughts were sticking, dragging him up and away from the darkness slowly, painfully, like ripping of a bandage too slowly.

Selfish...Seth...

I love you. I'm sorry. I love you.

Voices. Talking. Words that he didn't know where real or in his head still.

Then, the ear-shattering sound of a gun shot.

BAM!

His mind snapped into place from one second to another it seemed, from scrambled, clotting threads of thought to one bright and painful zap of focus, of awareness.

Spencer found himself lying on a mattress he began to feel only then, stranded like a fish out of water, paralyzed and desperate to gasp for air as his body fought being dragged out of the deep dark. And it hurt, and hurt, blinding and harsh, and he couldn't breathe- and yet, somehow, he did, dragging in every single breath with painful effort, all the while feeling like he was about to shatter from the single blow of reality.

5 mins earlier:

Seth still had his eyes closed, too pained to look into Spencer's empty eyes any longer. He didn't even know what he was saying anymore...just talking, getting everything off his chest. If somebody had told him years ago that he would ever be reduced to this...this mess...

It was all true though. He felt every word of it.

It seemed he wasn't entirely selfish after all if some part of him was holding on to the harsh reality for Spencer's sake, even as it hurt him.

He knew none of this had ever been Spencer's fault. He hated to think of Spencer's feelings for him as something artificial or forced...but how could he tell himself they weren't?

And even if any of it were real -Spencer had fallen for him not knowing who he was. He'd never had a choice. Still didn't.

It was beyond painful for him to even think, and much more accept, that...but he knew that if he only could make Spencer see it that way. If he could somehow relieve him of his self-blame-

"Well, isn't that just heart-wrenching. I think I might cry."

Seth's head shot up, shock causing his eyes to snap open and towards the door. They weren't alone anymore. He'd been too self-absorbed, too distracted to pay any more attention -and suddenly, out of no where, he was there.

Standing in the door, broad and over six feet tall, with dark wavy hair and a smirk that was downright evil.

Vic Vega.

Well, shit.

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Okay...please tell me no one's confused now. :S

Song by Seether, Broken.


	38. Chapter 38

Thanks for reviewing A_M_Kelley! Look like I'm basically writing the Story for the two of us now :D Hope you like it.

xxx

"Long time, eh, Seth?" The man in the doorway grinned like a Cheshire cat, the glint in his eyes betraying his friendly tone. "How you been, man?"

For another small moment, Seth remained too shocked to react, still caught up in his confession and tangled up emotions.

Vic Vega.

Was he actually seeing this? What the hell was he-?

"I know," Vic looked down, casually picking at his nails. The motion revealed the gun tucked into his pants. "You were expecting someone else. Another one of Joe Cabot's guys, right? Well, don't be disappointed just yet."

Seth's stunned surprise morphed into a cold, dark understanding at that. He blinked, refocusing, and pulled himself together, expression and limbs growing hard as he rose to face the intruder. He took a step forward, away from the bed, putting himself in front of Spencer without being obvious. Vic didn't seem to notice; his eyes remained on Seth which he knew meant that there was no sign of life from Spencer still.

Shit...of all the ways they could have been found this definitely was the worst. And of all people...

"He sent you?"

Vic smirked. "Did you know we go way back, Joe and I? Got me out of prison 2 years early...in case you're wondering how I'm out and about and all. I'm mighty grateful. It was getting real lonely in there without my old cell mate."

Seth glared, muscles coiling even more as he took in the real information beneath Vic's usual bullshit. It wasn't a far leap from Joe Cabot to Vic Vega if he thought about it. He hadn't known they knew each other, but then, both of them were in the same line of business and roughly from the same area. And Joe was one cunning bastard. It would be just like him to resort to sending a real threat Seth's way once he realized his usual guys weren't up to their task. Vic was a force to be reckoned with, he knew that first hand, even if he hadn't been on the opposing end of it yet.

"I want nothing to do with whatever Joe wants." Seth's fingers twitched, ready to grab his gun off the nightstand but he forced himself to remain calm, to talk.

He already knew that if Vic had made up his mind about this there wouldn't be much sense in talking, despite all of his pseudo-friendly crap. He knew Vic, knew the danger he posed -but he had once thought of him as an ally. If this was just a job to Vic maybe he could sway him without this having to turn violent...

He forced himself not to turn around to glance at Spencer at that thought. He couldn't risk anything with him here, the way he was...goddamnit, he should have gotten him out of here when he'd still had the time...but he hadn't expected Joe to send someone who could actually measure up to Seth, be a real threat...

"I'm out of that life, Vic." he made himself say calmly, "Whatever job he wants me to do, he'll have to find another guy."

"Huh," Vic huffed, then chuckled slightly, rubbing his chin as he looked around the room, "I think you mean three...three other guys. Considering you offed Danny and Louis. Joe's pretty pissed about that by the way...he had me doing other stuff, you know, important shit, and now I gotta go all the way out here just to find you-"

"I'm retired." Seth repeated sharply.

"Dead, you mean," Vic corrected, finally looking a him, "You look good, man, for a corpse. Tell me something...how'd you pull that off. I really wanna know."

Seth ground his teeth, fighting rising anger as Vic leaned against the wall, eying him curiously. All casual, like he wasn't picking up on his tension. Shit, this wasn't good...Vic might just be messing with him, he was prone to that...but he might also be serious about this. And the gun was far away...

"I needed to disappear. So I disappeared," he answered vaguely, cautious, "Look, Vic. Whatever debt Joe told you I have with him...that's Richie, not me -my brother's been dead for four months. I gave it all up, I have nothing left...the Feds, the police, everyone thinks I'm dead but if I go back to the States they'll find out. They'll be all over me. You're better off without that heat. So...for old time's sake, just let it be, man. Go back to Joe and tell him you didn't find me."

Vic smiled and for a moment, however small, Seth felt relief -then Vic shook his head.

"No can do I'm afraid. That first guy you made disappear...that was Joe's second cousin. He won't stop looking for ya, Sethie. He's mighty pissed off -but I reminded him of how good you are at what you do, convinced him to let you make up for this by working this job with us."

He kept talking even when Seth's expression darkened and he all but shrunk into a crouch.

"It's a big one. Enough money in it to settle everyone involved for good. He only wants the best guys for it...not just you, a whole crew. Do it and Joe leaves you alone, might even give you your full share of the money...that should make your being dead down here a lot more comfortable, eh?"

He smiled again, like he actually believed he was doing Seth a big favor. Seth stared silently, internally beginning to contemplate the best way to kill an opponent like Vic. If the man saw the intent, he didn't seem fazed.

"Don't make me ask ya again, alright?" he frowned, seemingly empathetic, "Next guys he sends won't be all nice like this. You say you got nothing to lose...but that's not at all true is it, brother?"

His eyes wandered to Spencer then, widening in mock sympathy -Seth saw behind it, heard the thinly veiled threat, and it almost snapped his control in half like a twig. He only barely kept his poker face and stance, knowing that anything else would play into Vic's theory.

"Don't," he ground out, then fought to speak on coolly, "Whatever you think you heard, Vic, it's nothing. He's nothing to me-"

He didn't even get to finish the lie. In a movement to fast and unpredictable for Seth to even move, Vic went for his gun, aimed at the bed and fired.

xxx

Morgan cursed when the sound of a single gun shot disturbed the nightly quiet. It had come from the building he'd seen Cabot's man walk into. Fear for Reid had him jumping out of the car and running for the hotel without further thought. He yelled at the clerk behind the reception desk, demanding to know where the man had gone- then ran up the stairs frantically, gun at the ready and praying he wasn't too late.

xxx

Horror ripped through Seth at the gun shot and he jumped, too late, trying to shield Spencer.

His whole body was frozen with dread in the second it took to turn from Vic's suddenly sickening smile to look behind him.

There was a hole in the wall, just a couple of inches above the bed. His focus snapped to Spencer, finding wide, suddenly very lucid eyes meeting his. Spencer stared back at him -and horribly enough seeing the sudden returned horror, fear and pain in his face was like a gift when he had already expected him shot dead.

The moment only seemed to hold for a fraction of a second, too short for either of them to move or say anything before Vic drew Seth's attention back to him.

"Just what I thought," he smiled, like he'd just proven some mundane point.

Seth turned on him fully, murder written in his eyes. Any concern for technicalities and safety quickly faded into the back of his mind as he prepared to jump Vic and finish him before he could make another attempt at shooting.

Vic though merely tucked the gun away, holding up both hands to appease him. "Just making a point." He watched Seth curiously, like one might an experiment. "Shit, man, that really spook ya? Never thought you could care...except for Richie maybe. Who is this kid?" His curious gaze wandered back to Spencer but Seth was in front of Vic before he could say anything else.

"Don't make me kill you, Vic. You know I will."

The other man looked at him, that interested glint still in his eye. For a moment neither man moved, then Vic grinned and nodded.

"Yeah. Think I will. I see you've really got your hands full here. I'll leave you to it, Seth, for old time's sake." When Seth didn't move he took a step back, towards the door. "It'll be some time until Joe sends the next guy, I suggest you get better at being dead in the mean time."

Seth stared at him as he made his way to the door, still torn between what he'd heard and the urge to rip the other man's throat out. He was actually leaving, after what he'd just pulled. Fucking Vic...fucking psychopath probably thought this was funny.

"Get out of here, Vic," he growled, just barely restraining himself from entering a fight he wasn't sure he could win after all just because he was so pissed.

"Sure thing," Vic grinned, and then turning towards the door, he said, "You do have the police trailing you by the way, just as a heads up. Some black guy with a hot chick. I saw them looking around town, checking motels...they're probably close by. Don't worry...I have some time on my hands now, I'll see about putting a bullet in their heads. They're too close to all of us." He winked at Seth. "You love-birds enjoy the ride while it lasts."

And with that, he was gone, leaving Seth frozen in place. Fuck...that was all he could think, his mind and body still reeling from the shock of the last events. Only slowly did he catch up to the fact that Vic was gone without a fight...and what he had said.

"No!"

There was a shuffling sound behind him and he turned around still half dazed, only then remembering that Spencer wasn't catatonic anymore. Their eyes met again and he wasn't surprised to see the same expression of terror in them still. It wasn't because of the nearly fatal gun shot, he knew, even if that was probably what had shaken Spencer up. What had him moving, struggling to get out of bed now was what Vic had just said.

A black guy and some chick. The BAU.

"Spencer-" he began, holding up a hand -but he didn't get to say any more. As lethargic as Spencer had been only minutes ago, his spirit was suddenly back, and with a vengeance. He was barely looking at Seth now -all their issues seemingly forgotten- focused as he was on one thing and one thing only.

"He's going to kill them," Spencer gasped, dread practically pouring out of him.

Seth couldn't help but feel a sting at how fully and quickly the worry for his team was able to accomplish what he hadn't in hours of worrying and talking, but he had no time to wallow. Before he could think or say anything, Spencer had grabbed the gun from the nightstand and was dashing towards the door, after Vic.

"Spencer, don't-" Seth made to grab his arm but Spencer snapped around, his eyes blazing as he pointed the gun at him with one hand while the other searched for the door handle.

"Don't," he whispered, pain flickering in his hazel eyes for a moment as they just looked at each other. Not hatred or resentment now, just desperation. Spencer still didn't want to shoot him...but he just might under the circumstances...

Seeing that, Seth lifted his hands, stopping to tell Spencer he only wanted him safe, that he couldn't go after Vic- but Spencer didn't wait to listen. Without another word he whirled around, all his energy focused by the fear for his friends, drowning out rational thought and logic.

"Spencer!"

Seth dashed after Spencer, down the dark hallway. God, how could he be this fast after-?

One corner and he lost sight of him, not fast enough too keep up.

Somewhere ahead in the darkness he heard a sudden shout, a gasp and then the sound of a body hitting the floor. Fear flooding through him, he ran faster, rounding the corner, only to freeze in surprise.

xxx

Derek Morgan hastened up the stairs to the third floor, heart pounding in his chest. He'd told the clerk downstairs to watch the elevators -he'd decided it was more likely the UnSub would take the stairs but it was still a risk he'd had to take.

His suspicions seemed to have turned out to be right when he got to the first floor and already heard a shout and the sound of someone running, coming closer fast. He tensed, pressing closer to the wall and waiting until he saw the outline of a shadow rounding the corner, the metal of a cocked gun glinting in the sparse light.

The person rushed his way and Morgan acted on instinct, raising his own gun and lashing out, knocking the man out cold with a blow to the head. A groan, then the man fell to the floor, apparently unconscious.

Cautiously, Morgan switched his gun into his other hand and bent down to turn the man around -he had to see if it was Gecko or Cabot's man.

His eyes widened in shock though when the man's face came into view.

"Reid."

Morgan barely had time to process what he was seeing, that it was his long lost colleague crumpled at his feet with a nasty looking bruise on his temple when suddenly there were more steps and he felt a looming presence above him. Slowly he looked up, from a pair of black shoes and into a pair of hard, cold eyes.

Shit, was the only thing he could think before a fist came crushing down on his temple and the world went black.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

:D


	39. Chapter 39

xxx

The first thing that Derek Morgan became aware of when he woke was the massive headache radiating from his left temple. Next, when he groaned in pain and automatically went to grab his head -he found that he couldn't move his arms.

Morgan's eyes snapped open and he was wide awake immediately, fully aware despite the ringing in his head. He was in a small windowless bathroom, sitting in a sturdy wooden chair that clearly didn't belong and staring straight ahead at a closed door. His mouth was taped shut with a piece of sticky plastic.

The small yellow light above the mirror, the only source of light, flickered insufficiently -but he didn't need light to see clearly.

With a shock, it all came back.

He'd followed the UnSub into the motel, fearing for Reid's life and hoping to catch Seth Gecko. Then it had all gone wrong- thinking he was attacking an UnSub he had knocked out Spencer, only to be knocked out himself just seconds later.

Shit. Morgan cursed internally, fear and agitation flooding through him. He balled his fists behind his back, pulling uselessly at the handcuffs that kept him in the chair. They didn't give; neither did the chair and he realized the handcuffs and thus the chair were also attached to the radiator, making movement virtually impossible.

Morgan ground his teeth, fighting to keep his composure when all he wanted to do was thrash and scream.

No! He'd been so close...Reid had been right there. But he'd been so shocked he hadn't paid attention. He hadn't even gotten a good look at the guy who'd knocked him out, didn't know if it had been Gecko or Cabot's man. And now he was here, stuck in this situation not knowing what to expect or where Reid was even...and no one in the team would know where to find him.

Shit, he'd really messed up.

He didn't know why he wasn't dead yet, he had no illusions that neither UnSub would have any qualms about killing him -but right then all he could think about what might have happened to Reid anyway. Where he was now...He'd been running away...from someone? And he'd spoiled that...and now Reid was probably here too somewhere, if this was even still the motel room...maybe tied up too, maybe worse...

Fuck. He shook his head, fear and regret overtaking him. He'd sworn he'd find Reid and save him. And now...he didn't even know what now.

His head snapped up, body tensing when suddenly the door opened and he squinted against the sudden light when a figure stepped into the room.

Staring up at the man out of bloodshot eyes, Morgan felt hatred boiling up inside him.

Seth Gecko.

Looking just like he had on his last Wanted poster. Alive. Well. Armed.

The man stepped up to him and ripped the tape off his mouth without warning. Morgan barely felt the harsh sting.

"Where's Reid?" he hissed instantly, straining against the handcuffs, "What did you do to him, you son of a bitch?! I swear if you-!"

Gecko let his arm snap back and punched him hard enough to make his neck crack as his head flew back.

Morgan cursed, pain shooting through his cheek when the man's ring cut into his flesh. Gecko punched him again, just as hard, and he felt blood in his mouth, but before he could spit it out, Gecko was right in front of him, a brutal hand grabbing his face.

"I'm asking the questions here," his voice was as hard as his grip, the dark eyes sharp like flint stone as he stared him down, "Does anyone else know you were coming here? Answer me, do they know?!"

There was an edge to the man's voice despite his callousness that told Morgan clearly he was feeling distress...fear that someone else was coming, and that he might have to act quickly.

Knowing he couldn't let the man do anything rash, he swallowed back more insults he wanted to hurl at Gecko and bit out, "No. They don't. I came alone."

He knew that it was the second stupidest thing he could have said...it meant there would be nothing to stop Gecko from killing him in here. Unfortunately, making the convict feel pressed and cornered was even more likely to result in that scenario.

Gecko stared at him for a long moment, seemingly evaluating his response, then he finally released his painful grip and stepped back. "Well, that was pretty fucking stupid, wasn't it, agent?" he bit out, but it somehow lacked the expected amount of glee for such a statement.

Morgan didn't bother with an obvious reply. In all honestly, he didn't care about himself very much right now.

"Where's Reid?" he repeated, terse.

Gecko's reaction to that was hard to read from his face; he said nothing for a moment, leaning on the sink.

"He's in the other room," he finally said vaguely, "You knocked him out cold."

"Where is Cabot's man?" Morgan forced himself to ask despite the response he wanted to give to that statement. He had to keep his head.

"He's gone. Not coming back."

Morgan opened his mouth again to ask what that meant but Gecko's eyes flashed warningly. "Shut up. I didn't come in here to play 20 questions with you. Just answer. You're Morgan...that much seems obvious. Only one male member left of your old team."

"After you killed them all," Morgan hissed, unable to control the rage boiling back up inside him, "Yes, I know you, Gecko. I promised you the chair for hurting Reid."

He remembered that phone call as if it had been yesterday. Seth Gecko's cruel threats, his casual violence and Reid's distress, his own helpless fury. He'd wanted Gecko dead then but it was nothing compared to now.

Seth smirked wryly at his words, nodding as he looked over Morgan, still literally chained to a chair.

"God laughs as men make plans."

Morgan bit back yet another laden insult, baiting his breath as he waited. Gecko clearly had a plan, something he wanted. Otherwise he'd be dead already. What could it be? Leverage? Money? He already had a hostage if he thought he needed to get away...

"Then again," Seth spoke on, seeming slightly absent for a moment, "what were the fucking odds that your team would find us here, right? So maybe the joke's on me after all."

Morgan glared up at him, not interested in the man's musing. He knew that Gecko was contemplating, trying to come to some sort of decision, and he needed to sway it in his favor. Anything else he felt would have to stand back behind survival for now.

"I'm not gonna bullshit you," he said coldly, deciding to play a risky but promising card in being mostly honest because he knew a guy like Gecko would see through anything else anyway. "I want nothing more than to kill for what you did...to hunt you till I do...but...I'll make you a deal. No one is on to you yet. You can just leave and disappear again. Leave me and Reid and I will promise that I will stall the team in looking for you. You know that if you don't leave us here alive the FBI will never stop chasing you...you'll never make it out of this."

He fell silent, waiting tensely for Gecko's reaction. What he was doing was risky, mostly because he wasn't sure how much truth there actually was in what he was saying, if he would ever be able to make himself keep that promise. Everything in him screamed to hurt the man in front of him -and only the fear that Gecko might kill Reid or take off with him again kept him from saying fuck all, and letting Gecko know just that.

The convict looked down at him in silence for a long moment, and Morgan couldn't tell whether he was actually contemplating his words or merely contemplation hitting him again for talking.

Eventually, just when it seemed like Gecko was going to say something there was a soft noise from the other room, a quiet groan and the creaking of bed springs. Morgan tensed and Gecko's stony facade slipped at the same time, both of their eyes darting to the door.

Reid.

Morgan opened his mouth instinctively to call out to him, make sure he was alright but before he could get out a single syllable Gecko had slapped the tape back over his lips, cutting him off. Morgan yelled, furious but completely ineffective, fighting against the bonds as Gecko straightened up and turned towards the door.

No! He tried to yell, trying to somehow get Gecko's attention back, to not let him walk out there without knowing if he'd go along with his proposal. He ripped at the handcuffs, making the chair and the pipes behind him squeak but Gecko ignored him, hurrying back into the main room and shutting the bathroom door behind him.

Xxx

Spencer grimaced, groaning in obvious discomfort as he slowly came to.

Seth sat by his side on the bed, one hand hovering over the bump on his head where Morgan had hit him. Very little of the tension he was feeling vanished with the young man's return to consciousness. He had known the blow to the head hadn't been very bad...what he didn't know was how Spencer would come out of this.

He'd been lucid just half an hour ago when Vic had shot at him, clearly distraught and in a bad way still, but at least not fucking unresponsive anymore. Somehow he'd manged to pull himself out of whatever breakdown he was suffering out of worry for his friends...but who knew if that burst of energy hadn't evaporated again already?

Seth ran his hand over Spencer's hair soothingly as he waited for the young man to come around, half afraid that he wouldn't, half afraid that he would. Nothing had changed, he still had nothing to oppose Spencer's pain and anger with, no fix for their dilemma...instead he had yet another problem tied up in the bathroom now.

He had no doubt that Spencer would take Morgan being here very badly, one way or another. Not just the situation he was in, but seeing him at all. And still he wasn't the person to help Spencer through any of it.

He was the bad guy.

Morgan had effectively reminded him of his role in this whole story just now. It was obvious the agent wanted to kill him -and just as obvious that he thought Seth would either kill them both or just kill Morgan and take Spencer away again.

Seth closed his eyes, breathing out heavily. Worst part was...he wasn't too sure he might not actually do just that. The latter of course.

He'd acted on instinct when he'd knocked Morgan out and dragged him back to the motel room; it had been the necessary first step to whatever he would want to do next. No matter what, he would need time without any of them being discovered...be it time for him to leave, or time till someone found the agent's body-

He shook his head harshly, disgusted for even thinking that last part while he was sitting here with Spencer. He'd have no qualms about killing that guy in there- but he knew that it would crush Spencer if he did. It wasn't an option, he'd long since come to that conclusion. All he could do was leave them both here if he wanted to get away.

Seth grimaced.

The end he'd been dreading was suddenly here, right in front of him. It was time to make a decision.

Motionless, he continued carding his fingers through Spencer's hair, feeling the familiar tug at his heart when Spencer's face crunched up as he blinked into awareness reluctantly, the last bits of softness and relaxation slowly bleeding out of him.

His throat closed up at the thought that this might be the last time he would touch him like this. The swell of desperate need to hold on to the moment was crushed when Spencer finally opened his eyes, gaze clear as he looked up at Seth.

There was the tiniest moment of muddled confusion, disorientation and confused mumbling, then Spencer tensed under his hands, drawing in a sharp breath. Seth forced himself to lean back and not touch the young man again as he struggled to sit up, waves of distress very obviously hitting him with every second that he had time to think and remember.

For just a moment, Seth once again felt himself subjected to that terrible accusing, agonized gaze, then Spencer's attention was off him and on his friend.

"Derek!" he gasped, fear thick in his voice. His hand clawed at Seth's sleeve as he struggled to get his feet out of bed. "He was- Where is he?! What happened?!"

"He's fine," Seth said with a certain amount of numbness. Their last minutes together, his hardest decision in front of him, and Spencer was fully focused on something else, not even...

A part of him was yearning to grab Spencer and hold onto him physically as he stood and moved away so quickly, another felt nothing but leaden sorrow at the obvious show of where Spencer's priorities where. Seth had messed him up almost beyond saving and yet even that didn't keep Spencer focused on him.

Once again, Seth felt that this was the end, their time running out, the tick of every second like a knife cutting into him and yet he couldn't get himself to react any less sluggishly when Spencer's head snapped towards the closed bathroom door -attention caught by some sound from inside- and he all but ran over there, ripping the door open.

Seth followed, far too slow, that terrible numbing dread running cold tendrils along his body and mind. He'd felt anger before when he'd stepped into the room and interacted with the agent, but now numb dread and pain were swallowing even that.

All he could focus on was Spencer, frozen in the middle of the room, shaking, with a white hand slapped over his mouth as he stared at Derek Morgan.

Morgan's eyes were wide and flickered from Spencer to Seth, his whole muscular body coiled to a spring as he tried to yell through his gag again.

Spencer swayed, making a sound almost like a gasp, almost like a sob and for a moment his legs looked like they might give before he moved towards Morgan.

Seth didn't need to see his face to know the fight Spencer was fighting between the relief and the desire to see his friend again, the guilt and fear of facing him, and the stress he probably felt at seeing him tied up.

"Derek..." he whispered, broken, almost like he couldn't believe what was happening.

Morgan yelled something as loud as he could, jerking in his bonds – and Spencer finally snapped out of his shock. Suddenly he almost fell over himself in his haste to get to the dark skinned man. Thin long fingers fell on a bloody cheek, pausing for another shaky second before they moved to pull the tape off Morgan's mouth.

"Reid," Morgan gasped, his voice strained with worry and anxiety, "God, Reid, it's really y- are you okay?"

Spencer didn't answer immediately, his free hands ghosting over the older agent's body as if to physically make sure there were no injuries. Seth watched, feeling his chest compress at the sight.

"Reid," Morgan tried his best to get Spencer's attention without being able to move to do so, trying to get him to look up. "Talk to me, pretty boy. Are you hurt? What's happening-?"

Seth wasn't sure what it was, probably a combination of all of it, Spencer breaking down like this, his obvious affection, Morgan's worried voice, their closeness, the question, the nickname...but it sent a red spike through him, sharp, ugly, searing; he felt his hands ball to fists by his sides. He'd known that agent was close to Spencer...he'd even heard him call him that name before way at the beginning...and yet he felt a sudden spike of adrenaline, an overwhelming urge to lunge and grab Spencer, pull him back, back to him, and bash Morgan's face in some more...and more.

He was sure his expression must have shown something terrible just then. No one was looking at him though.

"I'm fine," Spencer was mumbling, sounding anything but, "It's going to be alright, Morgan, I-"

Seth saw Morgan's eyes sweep over the younger man's appearance, horror in them, and knew what he was seeing. Spencer looked like death warmed up with a hearty side of trauma. He was shaking all over, clearly in shock and edging some sort of break down. It was obvious he looked like every horror scenario the black BAU agent had made up in his mind about his colleague's state.

Not that Spencerwas realizing that, focused as he was on his colleague. "It's gonna be fine, Derek," he murmured nonsensically, "I'm not going to let him- oh god...I'm so sorry...sorry this-"

He was talking about Vic's threat, not him, Seth knew...thought...but Morgan's eyes still landed on him like he was about to gut them both with a serrated knife any second...

Spencer didn't notice that either, seemingly having forgotten about Seth altogether. While he kept stringing together parts of thoughts that didn't belong together, he was clumsy fumbling behind Morgan's back to find the source of his bindings -only to suddenly freeze when his hand touched the cold metal of the handcuffs.

Seth actually saw him stop breathing for the seconds it took until he finally turned around slowly to look up at him, eyes wide. Fear, anger, betrayal, all throwna t Seth in such a harsh contrast to the worry and comfort Spencer had just tried to give Morgan.

It was only to be expected, Seth knew that. And yet, he could feel the last bit of control in him crumbling at that look.

"Let him go," Spencer demanded, his hoarse voice contrasting the fierceness Seth could see on his face.

He struggled to his feet, still swaying but driven by a new boast of energy as he came at Seth.

"Reid, no!" He heard Morgan yell from behind him, warning and fear in his voice. "Don't-!"

Spencer wasn't listening to Morgan though, entirely focused on Seth, grabbing onto his jacket, completely losing control of himself now. "Let him go! You can't do this! I'm not going to let you-"

The apathy and indifference he had displayed over the last few days was completely gone, his eyes blazing, finally alive with something other than pain -for someone other than Seth-

And just like that it was suddenly too much.

The last remains of paralyzing numbness fell away, leaving open a painful, throbbing gash in his chest, oozing helpless pain and rage. Losing control, he grabbed Spencer, much too roughly, and pulled, dragged him when Spencer refused to give, out of the room, away from Morgan and his panicked cries.

Spencer clawed at him, kicking and shoving as he tried to stay in the room but Seth didn't relent, merely gripping him more tightly. He didn't speak, didn't try to explain, all out of words in that moment, his only outlet his physical body that was acting for his reeling brain.

Some part of him knew he was making this all worse...that he needed Morgan to stop screaming...that he was making Spencer think he would hurt his friend and was thus at fault for this reaction...this wasn't him...he wasn't going to hurt either of them...this, them finding each other was supposed to happen, it was supposed to end...he had to let it...

But his brain had momentarily lost control over the rest of him...unable to make him stop trying to hold on to Spencer as he was slipping through his hands right before his eyes. All he could think then was that he just had to get him out of that room, away from Morgan, back to him-

"Let him go! You fucking-" Morgan was screaming bloody murder, thrashing in his chair while Spencer thrashed against him. "If you hurt him- Come back in here you fucking coward-!"

"Shut up!" Seth hissed, a spike of red hot hatred running through him and making him step back toward Morgan before he could think better of it. Instantly, Spencer who had been doing his best to pull away threw himself into him and thus between them, nails clawing at Seth's arms as his fingers twisted in his suit. "No-"

Seth growled, that simple act almost blinding him for a second. He yanked Spencer the rest of the way out of the room, Morgan forgotten, and pushed the young man to the wall next to the door, pinning him by his shoulders.

The situation was slipping from his hands, all while that tiny voice of reason at the back of his mind was screaming at him to stop, that this wasn't what he wanted. He heard it, knew it -the last thing he'd ever wanted was to hurt or scare Spencer- and still he couldn't stop himself.

xxx

Great is the art of beginning, but greater is the art of ending.

-Lazurus Long


	40. Chapter 40

Hey there :) 

I know it's been forever. I'm sorry I kept you waiting, I was writing my Bachelor Thesis and I really couldn't spare too much creative engery or time on aynthing else. But hopefull I'm back now :)

Hope you're still there, enjoy!

(P.S.: I feel like I should warn for triggers, but it's probably no worse than the previous chapters. I've jsut been away for too long. ;))

xxxx

x

Seth watched his control slip like it was happening to someone else. He could hear the ringing in his ears, shrill alarm bells telling him to stop, just stop this insanity-

But his hands wouldn’t obey, wouldn’t let up from where they were keeping Spencer pinned to the wall, digging into his shoulders. The hot iron fist crushing his heart just wouldn’t let up, wouldn’t let him breathe, wouldn’t let him think-

All he could focus on was the way Spencer looked at that FBI agent, how he was fighting for him... 

He just didn’t want to believe it. 

An hour ago Spencer had been near catatonic. He hadn’t cared about anything that happened around, or to, him. Someone could have put a knife to his throat, Seth was sure, and he wouldn’t have lifted a finger. Even when Vic had shot at him, it had only been his mention of the BAU that had shaken Spencer up. 

And now...now Morgan had managed to do what was impossible for Seth. He'd reached whatever life there was left in the shell of a person Spencer had become...he'd brought him back. Seth could see the evidence of it clearly, blazing in those hazel eyes. The panic, fear for his friend, but also the deep emotional connection, the sheer force of will he was mustering to fight him. He could see that fire in Spencer's eyes, that unexpected, defiant strength that had irked him so when they'd first met, that had thrown him for a loop...pulled him in.

It had been gone, snuffed out little by little after the safe house, through the nightmares, the PTSD, after seeing Seth kill. After finding out the truth. 

All gone. 

Except there it was now, flickering brightly like a candle in a storm. The fist around Seth's heart squeezed so hard he could barely bite down a scream, barely keep from running back into the bathroom and bashing Morgan's fucking head in for having Spencer's love

'Stop it....it has to be like this...you wanted him to be alright...his friends will make sure he's safe....you knew you'd have to let him go...you have no right to feel like this, he doesn’t owe you anything but a bullet between your eyes...just stop it, stop-'

“Stop! Let go! Seth, no, no don’t, don’t. I'm not letting you- you can't!”

Seth could hear the insistent humming in his own head, the choked voice of reason, as well as Spencer's rushed words, thrown at him in a way that they weren’t distinguishable as either threats or pleas. 

He couldn’t move. 

Spencer was still pushing against his hold while simultaneously clinging to his jacket. He had no actual chance of getting away, never had, but definitely not with how he was. As his strength faded Seth could feel Spencer cling to his clothes more tightly, the wheels in his head spinning, that frantic look in his eyes never fading. 

“Seth...don’t, just , I know you’re angry but-” Seth heard the words as though through a fog, still too fixated on Spencer's eyes. “...what does he matter? What do you care if he just stays here? They'll be looking for him...you can use that time to get away, fall off the grid...you’ve done it before! You can just- we can just go!”

Some distant part of Seth's brain couldn’t help but remark on the young agent's attempt to actually come up with a strategy to get him to back off aside from fighting or pleading. It was overshadowed by the all-encompassing ache filling him, adding to it even.

Spencer could be saved. That was all Seth understood now. He could be salvaged. Just not by him, just not while he was-

“Why-” the words, mangled and strained, left his mouth before he'd finished thinking them, “Why can't you feel that for me...like you do for-”

It wasn't an actual question. 

He wasn’t far enough gone to have forgotten why Spencer could never, ever love him ever again. He hadn’t meant to voice the thought at all, but before he could even finish it, Spencer cut him off, grasping onto the words like a lifeline.   
“N-no, I can!” Bony fingers grasped his lapels so tightly he thought he could hear their crunch. Spencer's eyes, feverishly bright now, were unblinking, fixed on his, as he suddenly tried to pull him closer. 

For a moment, it didn’t make sense, but Seth didn’t have enough time to comprehend, didn’t have time to understand that Spencer had taken the question at face value, as a demand, as something he could to to resolve the situation. 

“I can, I do. Seth-” Before he could so much as blink, Spencer's lips were on his, desperate and urgent. Seth could feel the young man twitch in his grip, struggling to get his arms free and around him and-   
He jerked back, feeling like he'd been doused with iced water. Panting, he stared at Spencer's impossibly wide, frantic eyes --and felt his stomach turn. 

Oh god-

He stumbled back, his hands, his whole body suddenly numb with nausea and misery. 

“No-” 

NO. To think that he had done this, let it come this far...  
Seth stood shaking in the middle of the room, barely still hearing Morgan's drowned out shouting from the next room. All he could see was Spencer's face, confused, lost, but mostly scared...not even disgusted, or spiteful the way he would have been had it just been the two of them. There wasn’t a shred of self-preservation left in him; he'd even let go of his hate for him, pushed to it-

“No!” 

How could he have snapped like this, let it come to this? How could he have broken Spencer like this, so much that he would- Hadn’t he just thought about how he wanted Spencer to be happy? And instead-

Seth shook. He had to go, had to stop this now, even though it was already far to late...he had to get away as far as he could- He staggered, torn between the debilitating pull towards Spencer, and the disgust and self-loathing pushing him away, out the door. 

“I never-” 

He shut his mouth, the words dying in his throat. There was nothing worth saying anymore. He wanted to go up to Spencer, pull him close, touch him, one last time, but he couldn’t...it would be unbearable to be pushed away....and even worse not to be.

Seth didn’t say another word. He turned and stormed out, determined to get as far away from Spencer as he possibly could before his legs gave out.


	41. Chapter 41

Seth fled the motel room without looking back, getting into his car and speeding off as fast as he could manage, just going, going...anything to get away.

He had no idea how long he'd driven or when he'd finally stopped but eventually he found himself parked on the side of the road somewhere outside of the village, with only the red, dusty road stretching out in front of him.   
It might have only been minutes, or several hours since the remaining pillars keeping up his world had crumbled; he couldn't tell.   
Not that it mattered. The pain he felt wasn’t receding, and neither were the crippling self-loathing and regret. There was no running from that.

He hadn’t known where he wanted to go when he’d run out, just that he needed to get away from that nightmare which had unfolded its last terrible dimension back there. He hadn’t been trying to flee his pain, anyway...all he'd wanted was to get away from Spencer before his presence could do anymore damage, hurt him any more.

He hadn't thought about after. Obviously, he was still a wanted man. If he wanted to remain free or alive, it would be best to just keep driving, to never look back, disappearing again...but where would be the point in that?  
Where would he go anyway? To El Ray? Should he go there and live out the rest of his pathetic life, stealing, and murdering, and drowning himself in liquor, haunted by the past, by his ghosts? Remembering with every breath the damage he'd left behind?

No. 

He knew that wasn’t an option. Not really.

Spencer's face, twisted and agonized, so desperate...so indicative of the shell of a person he'd become, appeared before Seth's inner eye, the image scorching his insides. 

He had caused that. Him. It was his fault. He had destroyed him, dragged him into a nightmare which would never end if Seth just disappeared now...

He had to go back. 

He couldn't disappear like this, without Spencer receiving any kind of reparation, any kind of justice. Having to go on living knowing he was still out there, probably always looking over his shoulder waiting for him to return...he would never heal, never come back from this.  
No. If he didn’t go back now, he knew the thought of Spencer never being able to get closure would eventually eat him alive and drive him back anyway. 

Seth started the car engine and turned back around, starting his way back to the village. 

There was nothing left he wanted for himself. Nothing he could have anyway. This wretched, torn feeling in his chest would never leave him, Richie's ghost would never leave him...and he could never get Spencer back, never fix what he'd broken.

All he could do was offer his freedom, or his life, to Spencer, even knowing it would mean next to nothing. Spencer wouldn’t be magically healed by seeing him go to prison, or killed. But it might be a step in helping him recover.  
And if that was the only thing Seth could do to help him, he would do it. 

He didn’t bother speeding up. Either Morgan would still be there, freed by Spencer, and he would arrest or kill him, or he would go find Spencer's team. Probably better to try for the latter and not have to come across Spencer again, forcing him to watch and suffer more in the process. 

As he drove back, Seth found himself wishing Morgan might just give in to his hatred and put a pullet through his brain the minute he saw him. But then, he knew that would be much too easy.

Xxx

Spencer didn’t know how long he'd stood there, panting, shaking, mind and body so riled up that he was barely aware of his surroundings. 

The first minute or so after Seth was suddenly gone from the room, he'd stood frozen, heart beating wildly in his chest, terrified as he waited for the man to come back, to shove him aside and kill Morgan after all. Waited for the seemingly inevitable, crushing realization that all his fighting, all his last-resort bargaining had been for nothing, unmatched by Seth's insanity. 

Then though, as minutes ticked by, and the door didn’t open again his overly-sharp focus slipped, adrenaline ebbing away and leaving him crumbling. His legs gave in and he sank to the ground, still breathing erratically as he fought to get a grasp on himself.

It seemed almost impossible, his mind spinning and threatening to lapse back into its vacant, withdrawn state from overload now that there was no more immediate danger forcing him into consciousness.

It took him all he had not to black out, to stop hyperventilating and stay alert. He couldn't fade out, not with Morgan still tied up in the other room, not with people who might come looking for Seth here, not with Seth still-   
But to stay awake, to force away the haze of panic, meant to think. To recall. To doubt.

Instinct was still screaming at him to get Morgan out of his bonds now, before Seth came back, but...Unbidden, his last impression of Seth flashed before Spencer's eyes.   
He'd been so out of his mind with fear and desperation then that he had barely registered it, but, there it was now, the image of Seth's face. So stricken, so full of self-loathing and -disgust after that kiss....the way his blind rage had turned into sharp regret. 

How Seth had run out....like he couldn’t stop what he was doing fast enough, like he was scared he might not be able to if he stayed. Like he had finally seen, finally understood...like he couldn’t believe he'd hurt him...  
Like he had no intention of coming back and finishing what he'd started, or any intention of coming back at all...

No. Spencer pressed his hands to his temples, shaking his head desperately. No. No. He couldn’t do this again, couldn’t let himself feel sympathetic for Seth, or ascribe any redeeming qualities to the man.   
It had destroyed him the last time around. 

It didn't matter what had gotten into Seth. It didn't make up for anything that had happened before that.  
Seth had wanted to kill Morgan, just like he'd killed all those other people without giving a damn. Spencer had seen the intention in his eyes.

And Seth had long known the pain and destruction he'd caused in him with his actions; it had never stopped him before...   
Spencer's hands ripped at his hair as fury raced through him. There were uncountable things that Seth had just taken from him, forced on him; how dare he be so shocked, so offended by Spencer giving in now? Like that wasn’t what he'd wanted.

But still he had...had...

He felt hot tears brimming in his eyes and shut them tightly as he hit his forehead against his knees, trying to get the destroyed look on Seth's face out of his mind. It was a losing battle. Unbidden thoughts, memories, feelings were creeping up on him, whispering in his ear and suffocating his anger. Telling him that Seth wasn't just bad...that he knew a different man, a man who would never want to hurt him...   
Oh god...He'd come so far in telling himself that Seth didn't actually love him, that he was just an evil, selfish bastard.   
And now he'd gone and-

Spencer pressed his head harder to his knees, feeling his long hair stick to his cheeks as he fought his own mind.

Evil. Evil. 

Evil.

~'Spencer woke up to the pleasant sensation of fingernails lightly scraping over his skull. He hummed, still sleepy and turned his head into the motion. He blinked, opening his eyes against the morning sunlight and smiled when he found Seth’s face right next to his.   
Seth smiled back in a silent greeting, and kept gently carding through his hair, separating the long strands with a slightly absent gaze. “You need a haircut,” he murmured after a while. 

Spencer smiled crookedly. “I thought you liked my hair long.” 

As if on cue, Seth's hand tightened, tugging him closer just short of roughly and making Spencer's breath catch.   
“Hm, I do,” Seth hummed, leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose quickly. “But you can't see through those bangs,” he used his other hand to brush the offending bits of hair out of his lovers face and left his hand resting against the side of his face warmly. “And as endearing as it is to watch you constantly blowing them out of your eyes, I'm not gonna stand by and watch you get beat up by the furniture.”

He smiled when Spencer huffed, and pulled him in for a light but lingering kiss. “Hm, alright,” the younger mans eyes fluttered shut when Seth leaned in to place a kiss over the skin behind his ear, “I guess we do both look kind of shaggy.”   
He laughed at Seth’s sound of mock indignation and then squeaked when the man intentionally let his lips graze a spot that he knew was ticklish.   
“Seth!”'~

NO. That's not- NO!

~

~“I’m sorry...I just, don’t know...”

Spencer rested his head in his hands, feeling utterly exhausted and quite frankly as if he could start crying at any moment.   
“Don't be,” Seth closed the door behind him, running a hand through his freshly cut hair, “I wasn't thinking.” 

Spencer scoffed, bitter, sinking into himself. He couldn’t believe that he couldn’t even get his freaking hair cut without losing his nerve these days. “I’m sorry,” he said once more, “I was fine the whole time, till we walked in and then-”   
He broke off, unable to explain to Seth how the friendly looking, little man with the big mustache and the beer belly in the barber shop had managed to trigger his PTSD. Maybe it had been the scissors about to come so dangerously close to his neck, or the sitting with his back to the door, or- 

“Hey.” He was pulled out of his thoughts when Seth took hold of his chin, tilting his face up to make him look into deep and calming eyes. “Don’t stress yourself, kid. It doesn’t matter.”

The positive effect on Spencer's nerves was immediate as always, but still the miserable feeling remained. “You’re not going to say that when you have to lead me everywhere because I actually can't see through my hair anymore.”  
He looked up sadly and watched Seth's eyes go from slightly amused to simply soft, taking on the expression that he gave him so often and that Spencer could never really interpret. 

“Let me do it,” Seth said after a moment. 

Spencer blinked, momentarily confused, then again in surprise.   
“Okay,” he finally nodded, almost without hesitance. As he watched Seth walk into the bathroom to find a pair of scissors he felt the tension in his chest finally dissipate ever so slowly. 

For the next 10 minutes he watched calmly, almost mesmerized as Seth cut his hair with a look of concentration on his face that could have almost been comical if it hadn’t been so utterly endearing. His anxiety from before never once spiked up again, even when the cool metal of the scissors touched his neck. There was no need for fear when Seth was there.

~ 

Reid shook his head harshly, back and forth, back and forth, trying to get rid of the memories. No, he didn't want to think about these things, they'd been lies, not real...

Real.

But still not balancing out all the evil...the danger to Morgan.

~

'”I feel like I’m dying.” 

Spencer pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, groaning at the persisting pain in his head. He felt like hell.   
They had had whiskey before falling asleep the night before. Spencer hadn’t been able to fall asleep, shaken by nightmares and some liquor usually helped calm him down. This time he had clearly overdone it. He shouldn’t have tried to match Seth...

“So whiskey is not your friend then. Noted.”

Seth stood in their small kitchenette, looking to where Spencer was sitting, leaning over the counter. There was no smile on his face but Spencer could feel it anyway; he shot him a dirty look.

“Yeah, add it to the list.”

“Well, guess that means no more of the hard stuff for you. Clearly it's doing more harm than good.” 

He was going through cupboards, then the fridge; it looked like he was making a smoothie...except the ingredients didn’t fit.

“What is that?” 

“Hangover cure.” Seth shrugged, “Works every time.” 

“What is that?” Spencer repeated, eying the drink in front of him suspiciously. 

“1 part olive oil, 1 raw egg yolk, salt and pepper, 1-2 tablespoons of tomato ketchup, a dash of Tabasco and worcestershire sauce, and some vinegar.“

Spencer looked at him wide-eyed, repulsed. “I can't drink that.“

But Seth wouldn't have any of it. “Would you rather keep feeling like shit all day? Down with it. Rip off the bandage and all that.“ 

Spencer watched with horror as Seth cracked a raw egg into the glass, fighting his gag reflex. He looked up at Seth pleadingly but the man just raised an eyebrow, unrelenting. Reluctantly lifted the glass and took small sips, pulling a face. “Ugh. No, that will never work.”

Seth took the glass from him, taking it back to the counter.“Well, not until we add the magic last ingredient. Hair of the dog-”  
“What?!” Spencer sputtered, “No, you are not putting dog hair into my drink!” He blinked, confused when Seth let out a laugh at that.   
“But then how are you going to get better?” Seth kept grinning, but then sighed when he saw Spencer's truly disgusted expression. He walked over, taking hold of Spencer's chin and tilting it up.“It's just an expression, Spencer. I meant vodka.” He kissed the side of the young man's face, then winked and went to fetch the alcohol.

“Oh, well, that sounds marginally less repulsive.” Spencer sank further toward the counter top, but was now also smiling slightly. He watched Seth through tired eyes, following his easy movement. 

“How can you you just stand there like nothing happened? I drank exactly as much as you-”

Seth raised an eyebrow at him once more, unimpressed, “I never said do as I do, did I? No, do as I say. Drink up.”

Spencer pulled a face, sticking his tongue out when he saw the corner of Seth's mouth twitch. Seth shook his head, less annoyed than indulgent. Then he grabbed his jacket and headed fro the door, ruffling Spencer's hair in passing.“Alright...you finish that...I'll be back soon.”

“Where are you going?” 

“To find a pharmacy. See if they have some actual medicine to help you sleep.”

Seth returned half an hour later with some aspirin and another book. Spencer took it curiously when Seth flopped down next to him on the bed. It said 'Hamlet' on the cover and Spencer couldn’t help but smile when Seth offhandedly murmured something about a sale. 

“Thank you.” He eased himself back down, this time resting his head against Seth's shoulder, cuddling up to him. “You realize of course that now you'll have to read it to me.”  
Seth made a sound of mock dismay,“Aw, see I was afraid of that.” 

Spencer laughed and lightly swatted the other's chest, feeling his headache recede when Seth kissed his head again, settling in.'

~

Reid sat against the wall with tears streaming down his cheeks. 

The room was still empty, undisturbed. Faintly, he cold hear Morgan's worried voice over the sound of his own sobs. Calling for him....asking if he was hurt...

He had to get up and free him, he knew....

But what would he say to the inevitable questions that would follow? How would he face the team, how go back to them? How would he explain where Seth had gone? How would he make Morgan understand that it would likely kill him if they caught and shot Seth, just as it would likely kill him if they didn’t? How....how...how...

He sat with his back against the wall, unable to move.


	42. Chapter 42

I changed this some. Feel free to reread this; I think it's better :)

xxxx

"Reid."

"Christ, Reid, say something, man...what's happening? Are you hurt?!"

Morgan's insistent, worried calls eventually became impossible to ignore even over the rest of Spencer's inner turmoil.

Still shaky, he forced himself to get up and walk over to the still open door -peer into a dark, empty hallway- and then to go to the window, looking out only to find Seth's car gone. He stared at the dark street blankly for a moment, half dried tears still obscuring his view.

He couldn't believe that Seth really was gone. Somehow he was still expecting him to rush through that door any second, to have changed his mind. The only things truly dependable about Seth were the deepness of his obsession and how often he changed his mind. But...there was no sign he'd be back. It had been God knew how long and...Spencer pressed his eyes shut against the terrible memory of Seth's expression just before he'd run out. The pain in it, the regret...it had been real. He had meant it when he'd said that he wanted to try to release Spencer so that he could be saved and get better.

Spencer shook his head harshly. What did that matter? He could tell when Seth's emotions were authentic, but honest scruples and regrets had never yet kept the man from doing altrocious and insane things anyway, had they? No...he had no garantuee Seth wouldn't be back. He had no garantuee that Morgan was out of danger.

His chest constricted. Morgan. Why was he still standing here thinking about Seth's motives instead of doing the logical thing and just freeing Morgan and getting out of here?! Now was the time!

He turned towards the bathroom, towards freedom, towards his old life...and found himself suddenly frozen and breathless again.

His old life. J.J. and Garcia and his mother...he would finally wake up from this nightmare. God, he wanted that so badly. But he couldn't stop thinking about how they were going to look at him once they found out the truth, once they realized what he had done, what he'd let Seth do...what he was now. They would be disgusted, even more distraught than before...he wasn't who they'd lost.

That person was dead. Left was someone who had caused the death of their loved ones, who had betrayed them. someone who was rotten enough to still be standing here and thinking about this, about Seth, doubting, hesitating, when his only thought should be of his endangered friend in the other room.

He stared at the bathroom door with tears obscuring his view, feeling his insides being torn to shreds. He would never be able to truly go home, would never be able to look Hayley or Jack or JJ in the eye and not be wrecked by self-hatred...not when he couldn't even go in there right now and find the courage to look at Morgan.

He struggled to take even one step.

He had to move.

But Morgan would look at him, look until he saw...until he understood what had happened, and it would destroy him. He would see that Spencer, grotestquely, insanely, loved Seth, needed Seth, wanted Seth. Because he did. No matter how terribly insane and messed up he knew that was, it didn't change the reality of the situation, wouldn't help him stop feeling this way. He could hate and resent Seth as much as he wanted, he could fear and mistrust him...it would never erase these feelings, these memories that seemed to be burned into his core now. Hating Seth would not stop him from dreaming at night of ghost touches of warmth on his skin, of their laughter, of safe, comforting caresses. It would not keep him from calling out Seth's name as he was shaken up from gruesome nightmares. Knowing all he knew now wouldn't be enough to make him stop missing him.

No, he knew he would live every second of the rest of his life separated from Seth, hating him, and missing him with every fiber of his being, and hating himself for it, and then hating Seth again...and endless horrible cycle of nothing but pain and misery.

Even right now, though he was completely lucid and felt all of his collected disgust and resentment towards Seth seething within him, a part of him still wanted him here now. Wanted for him to come back and pull him into his arms, to make all of this go away in the way that only Seth could-

Spencer pressed his eyes shut, feeling sick.

Yes, he definitely was a lost cause for any therapist. Broken beyond repair.

A sound down in the street made him jump, causing his heart to miss a beat in shock, fear that it had been Seth's car. He listened breathlessly but the car drove past the building, never stopping. It was enough to finally snap him out of his stupor though.

This was no time to do this, to drown himself in self-pity. Morgan was important now. He had to get him out safely...then he could still figure out what to do with himself...he could still leave once he was safe-

Hastily, he turned back to the bathroom door and hurried to get to Morgan. The older agent was looking at him with wide eyes, scared and confused, still struggling against his restraints.

Seth had taken the keys to the handcuffs with him in his haste, Spencer realized, panicking for a moment. But...but he had taught Spencer how to pick a lock, hadn't he? Yes.

He hastily walked behind Morgan, wanting to get behind the man before he saw his crumpling face and shaking Hands, his terrible secret.

"I- I'm getting you out now. Hold still, I need to pick these," he instructed, trying to sound reassuring even as his voice failed him.

xxx

Morgan was still shaking with tension, even as Reid started to work on his handcuffs. He had nearly had a heart attack when Gecko had dragged his friend out of the room with that murderous look on his face, when he'd heard him being slammed into the wall, heard Reid struggling and pleading for Seth to let them go... He'd expected the worst.

But then someone had suddenly run out and he had briefly hoped that Reid had somehow managed to get away. Until the sobbing had started.

He'd called out to Reid for what felt like an eternity, terrified, unable to figure out what had happened, what might still happen, where Gecko was, if he was coming back...and Reid just hadn't reacted, making Morgan think that maybe he was hurt too badly to move...

And now, finally, finally, Reid had come back into the room, but instead of explaining, or even looking at him, he'd simply walked behind him, looking so terribly shell-shocked, so ghostly pale that Morgan thought he might just collapse right then and there...and he wasn't even acknowledging it, not even saying anything.

"Reid," he forced out, failing miserably at remaining calm, "Talk to me, tell me what happened. Where is he? Did he hurt you? Did he do anything-?"

He hadn't seen any new wounds on Reid just now, but he had only gotten a glance at him. He had no idea what Gecko had done, what had happened in that other room, except...except there had been a moment of silence just before-

Reid didn't answer, and Morgan heard him draw in an uneven breath as he continued fiddling with the handcuffs. Morgan felt his stomach turn. He wanted to be sick, almost as much as he wanted to beat Seth Gecko into a pulp, to grind up his bones until there was only dust left between his fists.

He barely managed to contain himself, to focus on what he needed to focus on right now.

"Reid," he forced his voice to take on a calmer, more steady tone, "I know it's hard, but I need you to tell me...focus...where did he go? How soon will he be back?" How much time did he have to get Reid out of here?

"I don't-" Reid's voice sounded so cracked, so broken, it almost tore his heart out. "I d-don't think he's coming back...I...I don't know...but...I'm getting you out of these, out of here..."

Despite his mind being so obviously frazzled, that seemed to be the one thing that Reid could really focus on right then. It was heartbreaking for Morgan to realize that despite his terrible state, everything he had obviously gone through, Reid thought that Morgan was the one who needed saving; it was so much like the kid Morgan remembered that he wanted to cry.

Focus.

Reid was in shock, obviously, clearly confused because of his trauma...why else would he think Gecko wasn't coming back? There were no police sirens, no other sounds close by, no one had chased Gecko away. He had probably gone to find some plastic bags and a saw or something.

Not that he could say that out loud.

"Okay, alright...can you get them open?" he asked instead. This wasn't the time to unsettle the unstable young man even more. He needed to get out of these cuffs. But as the seconds passed, and nothing happened, and all he could hear next to the stretching silence were Reid's frustrated breaths that sounded too much like sobs to ignore, and all he could feel were those cold, trembling hands unsuccessfully rattling at his restraints, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Reid," he said again, trying to sound somehow gentle but firm, "Stop for a second, okay, just take a breath. Come...come over here, where I can see you."

This wasn't going to work, Reid was too upset, too unsteady to free him...he needed to calm him down somehow, steady him. But how could he when Reid wasn't moving, still behind his back like he was trying to hide from his view -ohgodwhyno- when he himself couldn't even touch him, or turn around?

"Kid, please, just come over here for one second. It's okay...He's not coming back now, we would hear the car..."

That much was probably true. He'd heard Gecko drive off in his car. But more importantly, he didn't want to waste any more time with Reid trying to unlock his cuffs, not when the time could be used in better ways...

Reid didn't comply for a long moment, bony fingers just clutching the metal around Morgan's wrists. Then he finally did move, only to abort the movement with a jerk.

Morgan grimaced. He was Close they were almost touching, and yet so far away from him...he could feel him shaking without having to see it. God, how bad off was he...what...?

"Spencer," he pressed his eyes shut in concentration, struggling to focus for Reid's benefit, "I know you're scared, and hurting and...it'll be almost impossible for you to actually fully believe this now, but you're safe. He's gone, and when he comes back he's not coming near you again, not ever. It doesn't matter if you can't free me now, the team is coming...they'll find us soon enough. If you can find a phone, you could call them...but they'll come either way." Still no reaction. Reid wasn't moving. "I won't let him near you, Spencer. We found you. You're safe. We found him. He will pay and he will never hurt you again."

It was all he could think to say to try and help now...but it was all he could do right now. The team...they wouldn't be that far off. And if he did hear Gecko's car, before they got here, well, he could always dislocate his thumb and get out of the handcuffs that way, and then use the adrenaline from that to knock the criminal out before the pain overwhelmed him. Yes. As he felt his own haste and nervous anxiety dissipate, the desire to do the same for Reid grew. Of course, that was probably impossible. He still had no idea just how badly traumatized Reid was, what kinds of torture Gecko had inflicted upon him. The way he was acting now made Morgan more and more worried...

"Spencer. Can you come- can you just talk to me please? Just tell me what's going on...let me help...what are you thinking? If...if he threatened you out there, it doesn't matter anymore-"

"He didn't." Reid's voice was so quiet that he almost didn't hear it at first, so broken it almost didn't sound like his own. "I- just, I was just scared for you...what might- He didn't do anything. He just...left."

The words made Morgan's gut twist once more. He remembered Reid so well despite the months they had lost...knew so well how frequently the young man had directed attention away from his own person, his own troubles, to put the people worried for him at ease. But this...Reid's tone, his wording...he couldn't suppress this ill feeling that Reid's words sounded wrong somehow, like...like he might actually believe them.

Oh, no. No, that wasn't...that couldn't be.

xxx

So yeah...it's just a Little different but I think it is less repetitive and makes more sense this way. Thanks for bearing with me :)


	43. Chapter 43

Hello everyone, just to let you know, I changed the chapter before this some. Just cause some stuff didn't make sense reading it again. :)

Anway, this is short but enjoy!

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

x

Morgan bit his lip to keep from saying something he was sure he'd regret.

It was obvious that Reid wasn't in his right mind right now thinking that Gecko would just leave them alone, that the danger was over. But for whatever reason he thought that, he could hardly be blamed; how could he be thinking clearly with everything happening...with everything that might have happened to him?

Morgan wasn't making the mistake of thinking of Reid as a reliable partner to work with right now, not the way he would have a year ago. No, he was the victim here. It would be pointless, if not to mention really stupid, to argue with him about Seth Gecko right now, even if hateful words and curses were dancing on his tongue still. It would surely upset Reid, push his focus to things that Morgan didn't want him to ever think about again if it could be helped, but especially not now when he didn't have the means to properly comfort or counsel his friend. It was probably lucky Reid was holding up this 'well' -in his imagination he had always been far worse – and he was afraid anything might push him to break down.

"We'll be out of here in no time," he said instead, trying to direct Reid's thoughts in a positive direction, away from fear, and violence, and imprisonment, and to safety, and home, and family. "The team will be here soon and then we'll go home. Man, you have no idea...JJ and Garcia will be ecstatic to see you."

He had hoped for a positive response to that but instead Reid seemed to tense behind him, his breath catching like he was in pain. Morgan still couldn't see Reid's face, couldn't begin to fathom what was happening to him...but it was worrying him more and more. Instead of moving to face him Reid began working on the handcuffs again, restless, hands shaking.

Morgan was just about to ask him to stop again when suddenly the was the clinking sound of metal snapping open and seconds later he was free.

He heard Reid's relieved sigh, almost as incredulous as his own, then shuffling as the young man got to his feet hastily. "There's a knife...in the nightstand," he muttered distractedly, making to walk past Morgan without looking at him. "I'll-"

He flinched, startled, when Morgan unthinkingly grabbed his arm to hold him back. Shiny hazel eyes flitted to his and for a split second there was a panic in them, so pained and raw that Morgan almost dropped his hand.

"I'm sorry, shit, I wasn't thinking..." He should have known not to do that but it was hard to remember protocol when he was so personally involved, so worried about his friend. "Just let me look at you, see if there's anything I can do to-"

There was no blood, no obvious bruising even now that he was taking a closer look, but Reid still managed to look like he was on death's door, thin and pale and with black shadows under his eyes. The rest of his body was covered by long pants and sleeves despite the warm weather. Morgan's eyes fell on the most obvious sign of a hidden wound, the bandages around Reid's arms - but before he could ask, Reid pulled his arms away hastily.

"I'm fine." Reid moved out of reach before Morgan could stop him, pulling at his sleeves like he was trying to hide his injuries. He had already let his gaze fall, breaking eye contact, still half turned toward the door but unmoving now. Morgan felt his chest tighten. He had been stupid to grab Reid like that, after all God knew what he had come to associate with that...but the way he was hiding his arms, downplaying his state...

There seemed something more wrong about it than just Reid's familiar way of diverting attention away from himself. It was almost like he didn't want Morgan to see what Gecko had done... that feeling of anxiety from before struck anther cord in Morgan, raising his unease.

"Reid, it's okay," he said carefully, "I know he hurt you I just need to see how bad-"

"I'm not hurt! Seth didn't-" Morgan started when Reid all but snapped those first words, only to suddenly grow pale and shut his mouth, looking sickened.

"I'm fine." he finally repeated, quiet but stubborn.

Morgan stood quietly for a too long moment, fighting to conceal his own reaction to this.

He wished badly to be wrong but...to him it sounded more and more like Reid wasn't just saying he hadn't been hurt to make Morgan worry less, but to defend Gecko somehow.

No.

He could feel his stomach turn at the thought. Oh no...

In retrospect, he should have considered this, should have known the likelihood of Gecko having messed up Reid mentally, not only terrorizing and traumatizing him, but-

He should have- but he just hadn't thought Gecko would bother being kind at all, or enough to invoke Stockholm syndrome, or that Reid wouldn't see through it...

But it had been so long, Reid had been alone with the man all this time...he'd only had him, his life had been in his hands. It was logical that that would have skewered his perception of Gecko at least to some degree. But-

"Reid-" Morgan shook his head, despite his previous reasoning, too horrified by this new thought. To think that Reid was emotionally tied to Seth Gecko to any degree, it finished him. Killed him. "He hurt you, Reid! He-"

He broke off, catching himself too late, only to see more pain flash over his friend's face before he averted his face. There was self-loathing and disgust in his expression, just as plainly visible as Reid's pain and misery.

Seeing that, Morgan struggled to steel himself, to pull back all of his anger, all of his own pain and anxiety. He couldn't do this now. Whatever Reid was feeling, he couldn't do anything to fix it now. He didn't have enough details or time to work with and he couldn't risk setting Reid off in case they had to run.

Instead he did the only thing that he could think of that might help.

"It's going to be alright," he promised quietly, softly. He stepped closer hesitantly, reaching out again, not sure if Reid would want, or could abide, his touch right now. "Reid, I know...you can't think clearly right now, it's all tangled up, and much too much at once...I know a lot of what you're feeling doesn't make sense now...it doesn't have to. You've been through a lot. We'll get all of that sorted out, in time...you'll have all the time you need."

He took the risk, reaching out and touching Reid's shoulder. The young man exhaled like he'd been holding his breath for painfully long, and shuddered. Tears rose in his eyes and his face twisted into a terrible grimace as he crumbled. Morgan moved without thinking, pulling the other into him and embracing him carefully, soothingly. He pressed his face into Reid's hair, closing his eyes briefly at the familiar smell, and held Reid as he shook.

"It's going to be alright now," he murmured, again and again, "You'll leave all this behind...I'm taking you home where you belong."

"And what would Seth have to say about that?" 

Morgan looked up, startled, only to find himself looking into the barrel of a gun.

xxx

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There you go, my gift to you, an actual cliff hanger^^ You're welcome.

So I was thinking about possibly doing a Christmas Special of sorts for this story. If you'd be interested in that let me know and I might try to make that happen in the next few days. Otherwise, happy holidays, people. Catch you next year :)


	44. Chapter 44

Okay, so I know it's kinda too late, but I did finally get that Christmas Special together. Now, this would be set after they become lovers but before Spencer remembers. And somehow, against my character, I made it so sugary sweet that you'll need a dentist afterwards. Still with a side of disturbing though, however I managed that...:'/ So yeah, you've been warned. Merry belated Christmas, everybody, I hope you like it :)

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They had met in November, but thanks to their chaotic circumstances and aimless travels under the warm Mexican sun, Seth didn't think about the possible complication that was Christmas until the date had already arrived.

Shit, was all he could think with a sinking feeling when one day they drove through a little Mexican village and there were Christmas decorations everywhere, despite the warm weather.

"Oh." A quick side glance at Spencer let him know he had also forgotten; the ill feeling in Seth's stomach intensified and he gripped the wheel more tightly, jaw tensing.

Spencer didn't say anything over the course of the day, not when they bought groceries in a little shop that was playing Christmas music, and not when they checked into yet another nondescript motel, made even more ugly by the few pieces of cheap, plastic decorations.

Seth watched him, increasingly nervous, when later he sat at the little desk, staring at an empty piece of paper which was clearly supposed to be a letter to his mother. Spencer kept setting the pen to the sheet only to lift it again, while Seth cataloged each of the little creases forming between his eyebrows and around his mouth, taking swigs from a freshly opened whiskey bottle. He'd started drinking less in the past two months, finding it wasn't as hard to be clear-headed around Spencer, whose trauma often made him feel guilty but who just as often lightened his mood with the smallest things, as it had been around Richie and his bloodshed.

Today though, he suddenly felt like he needed it to feel even remotely calm, to be able to contain that nervous flutter in his chest when he looked at Spencer, and the dark, pressing memory of his own past that kept threatening to come up, like bile. He kept resolutely pushed away any mental image of his own childhood, of Richie as a kid, focusing on Spencer instead.

Finally the kid did look up, thoughtful, eyes wandering to the open window but catching on Seth's face instead.

Seth didn't know what his expression was showing just then, but as quickly as he replaced it with a neutral one, it was clearly too late. He saw the flash of something in Spencer's eyes, just before the young man put down his pen and walked over to the bed.

Seth looked up at him wordlessly, his expression carefully guarded and his heart heavy. He could vividly imagine all that Spencer was probably thinking. How he must be feeling especially lost and lonely now that he was all alone and stuck in the desert on Christmas, when he should be with his family...how he probably wanted to tell Seth that he wanted to leave, to go home.

He was half expecting him to come right out with it, his heart already seizing up. He should have seen this coming. It was just...they'd been so happy, so close ever since that day in the desert...

Well, Seth had been happy. He had probably deluded himself into thinking Spencer was, too...of course he had. Spencer was still so lost and damaged, so drained from insomnia and nightmares, and all he had was Seth with all his flaws and shortcomings and sharp edges. Of course he would want to leave...

Gripping the covers next to his leg tightly, Seth steeled himself for the verbal confirmation of his thoughts, feeling nauseous already expecting the words -and expecting his own reaction to them.

Spencer's eyes, seeming golden in the afternoon light coming from the window, swept over his face for another few torturous moments, then, when Seth almost couldn't bear it anymore and almost abandoned his careless facade, Spencer shook off the nearly imperceptible tension in his shoulders and sank down onto the mattress, curling up next to him. He didn't say anything, just rested his head on Seth's chest and closed his eyes when the older man automatically reached up to run his fingers through tousled locks. He absentmindedly placed the liquor bottle on the nightstand.

Spencer ran his hand lightly over his chest, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.

Lying there, in a way that was so familiar, so comforting, Seth was almost able to relax, to convince himself he'd been wrong, that he hadn't seen anything in Spencer's face.

Almost.

Just somewhere far in the back of his mind he thought he could hear a voice laughing at him, one that sounded disturbingly like Richard.

Seth woke to a dark room and cold sheets beside him. He shot up, wide eyes scanning an empty room. It was night and Spencer was gone. Along with Seth's wallet.

In less than 20 minutes, Seth felt like he was going mad.

He was out, frantically searching for Spencer, knowing full well that he was being too aggressive, too obvious, too suspicious as he hastened from place to place in the little town. He didn't care...all he could process was the quickly filling black hole in his chest, that horrible sensation he'd last felt the night Richie had died, that loss like a part of him had been ripped out.

Spencer had left, his mind told him while his body refused to stop running around, headless, he hadn't found it in him to tell him to his face that he wanted to go home, so he'd lied down with him, kissed him goodbye, and left.

The thought drove him mad enough that he punched a brick wall until his knuckles were bleeding. The pain wasn't even marginally enough to be distracting.

Somehow he made it back to the motel room, with what plan he didn't know, to look for clues where Spencer might have gone maybe, to lie down and just stop maybe...

But then he opened the door and the light was on and he hadn't left it on and he momentarily froze, just stopped, when Spencer, standing by the window, turned around to look at him.

Seth blinked, for a moment just breathless, as Spencer let the curtains fall back and walked towards him, worry lines creasing his beautiful face.

"Where did you go...I got worried-" He hissed when he noticed the blood. "Seth, your ha-"

Seth swept him up in a hug that was probably near bone crushing, cutting him off. He was vaguely mortified when he felt his own shaking against Spencer's warm, pliant body, but it was drowned out by the overwhelming relief flooding through him.

Spencer gave a soft gasp of surprise but only hesitated a moment before carefully wrapping his arms around him, hugging him back. It felt like forever until the screaming in Seth seceded, before he had collected himself enough to at least sound sane, if not look it. "Seth?" Spencer murmured against his face, almost tentative, worried again.

"Yeah," he murmured into Spencer's hair, still keeping a tight grip on the others slim waist. He steadied his voice. "I got worried, too."

"I'm sorry." If Spencer was confused or still alarmed by his behavior, he didn't ask further, probably interpreting Seth's reaction as one caused by his own occasions bouts of PTSD-fueled paranoia and already trying, as usual, to soothe him. "I didn't think you'd wake up before I got back. I should have told you I was going out."

Seth nodded. He breathed in, finally pulled it together enough to get his face back, and only then leaned back enough to be able to look at Spencer.

He searched his face for any trace that Spencer had run and just changed his mind -anything at all- while his free hand wrapped itself around the side of Spencer's face, the urge to touch, to reassure himself of his presence almost overwhelming.

Spencer just looked at him with that mixture of slight worry and confusion overlaying the expression he usually wore when looking at Seth these days.

Trusting. Caring. Loving.

Seth's control slipped for the fraction of a second, relief overwhelming him once more, and he let his eyes flutter shut, forehead coming to rest against Spencer's. "Fuck- I...Spencer-" He shook his head, gripping Spencer's face with both hands and kissing him urgently.

He was by far not as gentle as he should have been, but still, Spencer melted against him, soft hands caressing his back and unmistakably holding on. "I'm sorry," he murmured, "I'm just...crazy..."

Nodding, Spencer smiled sardonically, "Yes, I know the brand."

He seemed to need no further explanation than the one he'd constructed himself, so Seth asked what he really wanted to know.

"Where did you go anyway?" He was almost afraid to ask, and unable to let go of Spencer's face while he did.

In response, Spencer blushed slightly, eyes flitting to the desk next to them. Seth followed his gaze only to find a plastic bag lying there, next to what looked like an old CD player.

"I-" Spencer suddenly looked a bit embarrassed, biting his lip as he formed words. "I thought- earlier...I could see what you were thinking, how bad you felt over me being away from home for Christmas. And I wanted to tell you then, but...I couldn't think of the proper way, to make you believe it..." He was fidgeting, his fingers digging into the back of Seth's shirt; he cut himself off again, eyes flitting to Seth's face and away and back almost nervously.

Seth stood, unblinking, still absentmindedly running a thumb up and down the side of Spencer's face, suddenly feeling his heart beating in his chest. What-?

"When I'm with you...I feel safe. I feel...happy...whole. I know, I saw, that you think I feel like I'm missing something...I mean, I know I am...but, I don't remember them. I only remember you."

Spencer looked at him then, without hesitance or blinking, and Seth felt him grow breathless.

Spencer swallowed, gripping at Seth's shirt unconsciously. "And when I look at you...when you hold me, when you touch my face and look at me like that...I don't feel like anything is missing."

Soft fingers reached out, touching Seth's face in turn, as though to convince him physically. Seth just stood, unblinking.

Spencer smiled, the most honest, beautiful smile he'd ever seen. For him.

"I'm not sorry I'm here," he said quietly, "I'm happy to spend Christmas with just you here, in the desert, in a crappy motel room...because it feels like home. You feel like home."

If Spencer hadn't looked at him like that, in that completely heartfelt, open way, Seth wouldn't have believed his ears. Even then, he wanted to think he was hallucinating, hearing Spencer, who was always so introverted, so shy and hesitant about expressing any sentiment at all, saying this to him now...

Somewhere deep down he knew it should make him feel sick, guilty...but the first sly tendrils of that were quickly smothered by Spencer kissing him, drawing closer yet and erasing everything that wasn't exhilaration and relief.

Completely lost in the moment, he almost startled when eventually Spencer pulled back, out of his embrace. His arms tightened automatically, pulling him back in and Spencer laughed, thinking the action playful. He lightly hit his arm, then held up a finger, pulling Seth over to the desk and reaching for the bag.

Seth barely looked at it, unwilling to take his eyes off those eyes and lips that had just said those unbelievable things. Spencer had to practically push the flat rectangular object between their faces to make him blink and readjust his focus. Even then, it wasn't nearly worth it.

"It's a CD," Spencer explained, slightly pink-faced again, "It's kind of pathetic, I know, especially since I bought it with your money. I just...I wanted to get you a gift, but they had nothing remotely fitting...so...and I remembered that you said you liked Elvis once, so I got you this."

Seth blinked at the picture of Elvis, taking entirely to long to catch up, his mind still elsewhere. Looking back at Spencer's hopeful face though, he couldn't help but break into an open smile.

He'd never said anything about liking Elvis...seemed like Spencer had misheard when he'd said Ealdath... But Spencer had gotten him a gift, he'd thought about what would make him happy...

Just a year ago, Seth would have laughed at anyone saying that it was the thought that counted, not the price or the use value. Now, no matter how insane that made him, he fully got it.

"It's perfect. Thank you." He let go of Spencer just long enough to put the CD into the player and show that he really did appreciate the gift. The music started playing, soft and low, but he still only heard and saw Spencer. Spencer, whom he wanted to tell so badly how much he wanted him, needed him, loved him.

"Now I don't have anything for you though," he said stupidly.

"Well," Spencer smiled slightly, eyes suddenly twinkling almost mischievously. He put his arms back around Seth's neck, "You could offer to dance with me. It is Christmas after all."

Seth huffed, shaking his head, even as his arms wound themselves more tightly around Spencer. "I have no idea why you would think that Christmas and dancing go together. Or me and dancing for that matter."

"Oh, come on, it's easy," Spencer's eyes sparkled like jewels and Seth barely registered it when he started moving them around in slow circles. He seemed so lighthearted now, so little left of his usual skittishness and tension, and all Seth could think was how beautiful was when he smiled.

He kissed Spencer again, tender and slow, and then Spencer rested his head on his shoulder and he held him close, and everything else disappeared. The darkness inside him, the sad motel room, Richie's ghostly face.

Spencer entwined their fingers, erasing the pain in his bruised knuckles, and the music played.

~Wise men say only fools rush in 

But I can't help falling in love with you 

Shall I stay 

Would it be a sin 

If I can't help falling in love with you

Darling so it goes 

Some things are meant to be 

Take my hand, take my whole life, too 

For I can't help falling in love with you~

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Alright, there you have it :) 

I want to wish everybody a happy new year tomorrow, and to thank the lovely people who review this story so faithfully, but also ask that maybe for next year, some more people make up their mind to grace me with some feedback. I'm sure I'd write much faster ;) 

Ta ta for now^^


	45. Chapter 45

Tears rose in Reid's eyes and his face twisted into a terrible grimace as he crumbled. 

Morgan pulled Reid into him and embraced him carefully, soothingly. He pressed his face into Reid's hair, closing his eyes briefly at the familiar smell, and held Reid as he shook.   
“It's going to be alright now,” he murmured, “You'll leave all this behind....I'm taking you home where you belong.”

“And what would good old Seth have to say about that?” 

Both Morgan and Reid jumped at the sudden sound of an unexpected voice coming from the door. 

Morgan's head snapped up, his muscles tensing instinctively when he saw no one other than the man he had been tailing standing in the door way. Cabot's man. His stomach dropped at the sight....Shit, he had been so busy with Reid and Gecko, so distracted that he hadn't even thought-  
Gecko had said he was gone-

He felt Reid draw in a sharp, startled breath, saw him grow pale, and stepped in front of him protectively. 

His fingers twitched at his belt where his gun would have been -had Gecko not taken it. Shit.

The stranger's eyes followed his aborted movement and the corner of his mouth curled upwards. He lifted his own hand, drawing Morgan's attention to the gun aimed at them.

NO-

Morgan's jerked forward, mind racing, immediately considering if he would be fast enough to both tackle the man and push Reid out of the line of fire when the first shot fell.   
However, the man didn’t shoot. Instead he leaned back against the door frame almost casually.

“So what is this then?” he drawled lazily, eyes looking over both of them with wry amusement before they settled on Reid, “Getting a little side action, kid? I don't spose that's the reason why Seth hightailed it outta here?”

Reid flinched, and Morgan growled, anger and nausea spiking up in him red-hot at that implication. He pushed both down harshly, making himself scan the aggressor's posture for any possible weak spots instead. Anything, anything to help them-

“You.” Reid's voice broke through his feverish thoughts, but he wasn't talking to him. 

The man smiled at the younger agent, eyes gleaming in dark amusement, “Hm, yes me. Name's Vic. Hello again. Sorry, I didn't catch your name earlier when I was shooting at you.”

“What?!” The self-control Morgan had been fighting for just a second ago snapped immediately at the man's jibe, and Reid grabbed onto his arm, struggling to hold him back. That shot he'd heard, it really had been aimed at Reid?! And this guy had-

“Morgan, no!” Reid put all of his weight on Morgan's arm, dragging him back.

“Better listen to you boyfriend, pal,” Vic sneered, gun aimed at Morgan's chest, “You ought to stay standing over there, or else I might have ta shoot ya.”

“No!” Reid said hastily, trying to push Morgan back with an arm over his chest, “No, listen! He's not involved in this. It's Seth you want, isn't it? Well, he's gone, and he's not coming back. So you better hurry up and go after him before you lose the trail.”

Some reason returned, Morgan forced himself to stop moving, to let Reid talk, hoping he might get somewhere with his words. If not-

Vic raised an eyebrow, then rubbed the side of his mouth, laughing, “Right, good thinking there, kid. Thanks for the advice. Thing is....I saw him leave. If I wanted to go after him I would have. BUT...he made it pretty clear he doesn’t wanna go back to LA with me, and, well you probably know this, but Seth Gecko is the last person that you wanna try to smuggle across the US border against his will. Nah, don't see that going over well...”

He trailed off, looking around the room, their things, the unmade bed, for a moment. “So here's what I was thinking. Why don't I,” he winked, waving the gun at Reid almost playfully, “just get him to go there on his own? Less work and risk for me, wouldn’t you say? All he needs is some incentive.”

Morgan felt Reid's fingers twitch on his arm, heard him fail to draw in a breath, and slowly, terribly, despite his gap in knowledge about what was going on, began to understand what the man had to be saying, why he was looking at Reid like-

“No!” he roared, so enraged that he barely registered when Vic took the safety off the gun and aimed it at his head. “If you think you're taking one step toward him-!”

“Morgan!” There was an obvious amount of badly suppressed panic in Reid's voice when he shouted at him.   
Then, forcibly controlled, he directed his attention back to Vic. “You’re wrong. It won't do you any good. Whatever you think you saw- he's not going to come for me. I'm not...with him, he's-”

Vic just raised an eyebrow, smirking, unimpressed. “-not fucking you? Ah, come now, no lying just for the audience.”

Reid fell silent abruptly, breathing in shallowly, and Morgan clenched his fists until they hurt, anything, anything not to look at Reid, or think about how much truth there was in Vic's statement. No, no, he couldn’t do this now, Vic was purposefully riling them up...he had to find a way to get them out of this alive and -not- think about Reid with Seth Gecko. 

Meanwhile, Vic kept talking like he had all the time in the world, like this was just a friendly chat. “For the record, kid, I'll even believe you're not with him. I mean, whatever...wouldn’t be surprised with that brother of his...we all know Seth's a bad boy, and you don't exactly look like you've been honeymooning here.”   
He glanced over Reid's tattered appearance, the bandages and the bruise on his temple. 

“Lemme guess,” he eventually sneered, “I did catch some of the drama after all...Seth went and fell for some kid who couldn’t give a shit about him. Never could take no for an answer. What d'he do? Snatch you from your boyfriend after you refused to give him the time of day?” He glanced at Morgan's face which was still pulled into a scowl, and laughed.   
“Gee, what's with the kidnapping...it's like hes making a career out of it.” 

He laughed again, like all of this was highly amusing, then finally sobered up a little, waving at Reid casually, “Well, my condolences, kid. I'm sure you and Mr. Knight-in-not-so-shiny-armor here woulda hightailed it outta there, away from the bad guy and into the sunset- but guess what, there's more than one bad guy in this story and I don't give a rat's ass about Seth's perversions or your happy ending, about who lives or dies or gets fucked, as long as my job gets done. Bummer, huh?” 

Reid just stared at him, silent and pale, and Vic nodded, triumphant; Morgan didn't dare take his eyes off the man long enough to look at Reid's expression, but he was afraid to look and see anyway. 

“Anyway....doesn’t really matter if you’re with him, does it? He's with you. That much was obvious from his pathetic performance earlier. So yeah...I'm pretty sure he'll come to LA if you’re there, especially if you're about to get your head cut off.”

Reid shook his head, still ghostly white, lips thin. “He won't. We...fought. It's all over. He's gone...even if I called him and asked him to, even if he believed that I would want him to, he wouldn’t come, he-”

But Vic just pursed his lips, looking down at his gun with an air of boredom. “Ah, now you better hope that's not true, lover boy...because otherwise I will have nothing but two useless witnesses to deal with, won't I?”

Morgan literally felt Reid's resolution crumble then, knew at the same time as Reid that there was no talking their way out of this. This guy wanted Seth....and if he didn't get him-

Morgans muscled coiled o a spring as he got ready to jump in front of Reid at the inevitable shot, to maybe buy his friend some time. Bony fingers on his arm stopped him though, deflating him.

“I...I'll try.”, Reid acquiesced quietly, sounding utterly dejected, “Let me try.”

Vic nodded. “Good choice. Alright, the feds are swarming all over this place. Be here in no time. So, time to say bye bye, we're going.” 

Morgan's head snapped up at that, panic back in his eyes, “Wha- no! If you think-!”

He was interrupted by Vic's condescending sneer, “Over your dead body? That what you’re trying to say, pal? Cause that’s exactly what I was thinking.”


	46. Chapter 46

"Over your dead body?" Vic sneered, "That what you're trying to say, pal? Cause that's exactly what I was thinking."

Morgan found himself staring down the barrel of the cocked gun in the same second that Reid stepped out of his reach and in front of him. He jerked forward, trying to yank him away from Vic, but Reid stepped up to the killer even closer -close enough for the gun to almost touch his forehead- and actually grabbed hold of it.

"Spencer-" Morgan gasped, jumping, only to freeze in fear. No-

Surprise flashed briefly over Vic's features; his finger on the trigger twitched in reflex, but Reid didn't attempt to wrestle the gun from him, he just held it so he was between it and Morgan.

Morgan was unable to see Reid's face, but he could hear the desperate conviction in his voice as he bargained with Vic.

"Don't! If you want to shoot him, you'll have to go through me!"

He ignored Vic's incredulous laugh, talking fast. "Just- Don't. Think about this. I'll go with you, without any trouble. You can just leave him here. I'll help you lure Seth to LA, I'll call him, give him proof that you have me. If you leave him alone."

Morgan felt his stomach turn when Vic only smirked in response, over his surprise by then. He kept still, not taking the gun down as he stared back at Reid.

"You haven't done this before have you, Spencer?" he huffed, a sickening glint in his eye, "Why else would you think that I'd need your cooperation to get any of that done? I can leave Seth your bloody clothes or, say, a finger to find, I can let him hear your screams over the phone. I don't need no deals."

Reid tensed, fingers clenching and unclenching by his side and around the gun. Morgan could practically feel Reid's brain race, trying to come up with the words to save them before Vic stopped being amused by his daring actions -but he knew that his colleague was likely in no shape to think as fast as he once used to.

"No...you can't. Because...you're right," he finally argued, "Seth will come after me because he l-" he swallowed audibly, "loves me. A-and Cabot wants Seth to work for him. Needs him for the heist, right? If you hurt me, I am telling you, Seth will kill you, or he'll die trying! Where would your heist be then?"

He was talking fast, all but stumbling over the words, but Morgan knew he could see that Vic didn't care about that. He looked more like he would enjoy the chance to send Seth a bloody message. Morgan was already beginning to calculate how to possibly get Reid out of the way, how to avoid being shot dead immediately, any way to get a chance to kill this man before he killed Reid, too...

"It's a long drive from here to LA, a-and you'd have to cross the border. Even if you gag me and throw me in the trunk, you'd have to knock me unconscious far too often for you to be sure not to cause permanent damage. And even if you don't-" He took a deep breath, voice cracking over the next words, "I swear, I'll kill myself. Somehow. You can't guarantee you'll be able to stop me!"

"It's not funny," he snapped when Vic scoffed, sounding worse by the second, "Don't think I won't...you think I'm in bad shape now because of Seth? You have NO idea!" He jerked his free arm forward, thrusting his bandaged wrist in Vic's face. "Seth stopped me once, but the only reason I didn't try again...is him, Derek. Wanting to see him again."

Morgan stared at Reid, shocked and horrified at those words. He knew that part of what Reid was saying was a lie, after all, he was building on Vic's misconception that they were a couple...but his wrists...the bandages, the way he sounded so damn close to tears. It had happened, Morgan realized with horror. To think, the pain and despair Reid must have felt to actually cut his wrists...

"No..." he croaked, unable to stop himself, voice shaking. That couldn't have happened...

Reid tensed at the sound of his cry, shoulders shaking briefly; he didn't turn around though, entirely focused on Vic still.

The man wasn't grinning anymore as he looked down at Reid's wrists, obviously seeing he wasn't kidding. As sure as he might be that he'd be able to restrain Reid, the young man seemed to be convincing him that it might be more trouble than he'd want...

Reid latched onto that immediately, not daring to pause.

"You said you owe Cabot, I heard you. You don't want to let him down, not over something that can easily be avoided. Please, just, take us both to LA. You'll have no trouble, no risk...we'll both have something to lose...and it'll help you cross the border...they...the police must be looking for a single man in a car. More people will throw them off-"

He was cut off abruptly when Vic, too fast for either of them to react, let his free hand snap forward and grabbed Reid by the hair, brutally yanking him to his side and aiming the gun at Morgan again in a mere second.

"No-" Morgan jumped forward but stopped short, frozen when Vic smirked and pulled Reid's head back roughly, pressing the gun to his face. Morgan was petrified, eyes flitting from Reid's terrified eyes to Vic's hard ones.

"You know what?" Vic laughed in Reid's ear, not even slightly breathless, eyes piercing Morgan's, that dark gleam back in them, "You got me. Road trip it is. But not because I don't think I could keep you just alive enough to make Seth jump...but I really wanna see you give that little lovey-dovey speech to Seth. He hasn't had the pleasure of running into your beau yet, has he? Well, I'm willing to bet he'll do your boyfriend in for me if he hears about this...and how much fun would that be? So yeah, lover boy can come."

Morgan had just enough time to watch Reid's face turn ashen at Vic's words, like he hadn't considered that in his haste, then the man demanded his attention.

"You, turn around." Morgan was about to object but Vic just arched an eyebrow, glancing at Reid, and Morgan knew he had no choice.

Grudgingly, he turned around.

A second later, Reid gasped, and Morgan, regretting his decision was about to whirl around when something hard connected with the back of his head. He thought he heard Reid cry out his name, then the world went black.

xxx

Seth got out of his car, stepping into the near perfect darkness of the nightly street.

He stood briefly, drawing in smoke from his cigarette, as he looked up at the motel. There were no cop cars around, no lights and sirens, no FBI, which surprised him a little. It had been enough time for Spencer and Morgan to get out of there and get to a phone.

Definitely.

Which meant the cops were probably lying in wait up there and around here, waiting for him. Spencer was probably far away, cooped up in some field office or hospital even, by now. He probably wouldn't see him until it was time for his court date, if even then.

He closed his eyes, pushing the thought of Spencer out of his head to steel himself. Taking one last smoke-filled breath, he let the cigarette fall to his feet and began walking towards his arrest.

As he made his way up the stairs to his room, he waited for someone to jump out at him, wave a gun in his face, and tackle him to the ground. However, eventually he stood in the threshold of a dark, unlocked, and utterly silent, room.

Looking back, he thought he would have been alarmed, suspicious, normally, if his head hadn't been completely elsewhere, so much of his concentration focused on not thinking of Spencer. As it was, he stood dumbfounded for far too long, even after he'd flipped on the light, before eventually it dawned on him that there was no one there.

Empty. Unmoved. No trace that anything had changed since he'd left. The bathroom door was ajar...numbly he took the necessary steps to look inside an also empty room with an also empty chair.

Gone.

For a moment, Seth just stared at the chair, uncomprehending...Morgan had gotten free, Spencer had gone with him...so where were the police?

He turned and walked back into the main room, half-expecting the FBI to be standing in the door like in some bad movie, but the frame remained empty.

What the-?

Then he saw the bed.

There, under the blanket...just a hint at first, then, when he blinked...red.

Red, on the sheets...and a strand of familiar dark blonde hair peeking out from under the blanket-

Spencer.

All numbness was gone in an instant to be replaced by sickening, bone-deep fear. He rushed over to the bed, heart thudding in his chest as he ripped back the blanket, horror scenarios assaulting his mind. It took a horrifyingly long moment for his brain to catch up to what he was seeing.

The empty -corpseless- mattress, the smear of blood and cut-off lock of hair -next to a terribly familiar-looking knife.

Vic.

No.

No, that couldn't-

Spencer!

No, he had been so fucking stupid, how could he have thought Vic would just-? He'd-

Spencer!

Seth stared at the bed, breathing shallowly as waves of panic rolled over him, intermingling with bouts of searing rage, hatred, and regret. What had he done? He'd left him, hadn't thought there might still be dangers other than himslef...he'd-

. .

Stop!

In the end, he managed to let the rage take over, only to suppress the debilitating fear he felt, struggling to focus on what he would need to do.

In the far distance, he could hear the sound of police sirens, then, his phone rang in his pocket.

Still staring at Spencer's hair, his blood, he reached into his pocket, not bothering to look at the number. He picked up, any last trace of numbness chased out of his heart by an impenetrable darkness taking hold.


	47. Chapter 47

“Put it on speaker,” Vic told him as he handed over his cell phone.

Reid took it silently, unsuccessfully trying to hide the tremor in his aching hand, and struggled to dial Seth's number. 

His heart was beating fast, and cold sweat was gathering on his brow. He kept anxiously glancing at his abductor; Vic was slouched in the driver's seat, looking out over the dark, deserted highway the side of which they were currently parked on, infuriatingly at ease in the situation. 

They had crossed the border just half an hour ago, completely unbothered by any kind of thorough inspection, and were now parked somewhere in the desert. Far from any city lights or controls, far from rescue.

Vic had waited just long enough for Morgan to regain consciousness so he would not be found bleeding in the trunk in case they were inspected; he had sat with Morgan in the backseat and had ordered Reid to drive them through the checkpoint so he could keep his gun pointed at Morgan just out of sight.   
As soon as they had been far enough from the border, he had made him stop the car and had knocked Morgan out cold with the butt of his gun again, despite Reid's protests, before shutting him back in the trunk.   
Then, he had gone back to driving, assigning Reid the passenger seat. Which was just as well because by then Reid's palm had been throbbing so much that he wasn't sure he'd been able to take putting pressure on it for much longer. The cut from Vic's knife wasn't deep enough to warrant stitches, but he could feel a slow trickle of blood steadily seeping through the makeshift bandage he'd created out of a handkerchief.

Reid hadn't resisted when Vic had grabbed his hand and cut him, letting the man press his bleeding hand to the sheets for Seth to find the evidence, and he wasn't resisting now, terrified that he might do something to trigger Vic to change his mind about leaving Morgan alive.   
That decision had clearly been made on a whim, and Reid couldn’t let it change, couldn't risk making Vic annoyed or angry, not when it was so obvious that the man was a psycho that could rival Richard Gecko. The way he had grinned at the thought of Seth finding out about Morgan-

As sickening and terrifying as that glimpse into the man's sadistic nature had been, it was ironically also the only comfort Reid had right then. The only reason Morgan wasn't dead yet.

Horribly enough, he was almost glad that Morgan was unconscious in the trunk right now. His colleague would likely have lashed out in anger sooner rather than later, and Vic clearly wouldn't need much of an excuse to decide to soak the desert sand with his friend's blood the second 'amusing' turned into 'annoying'. 

This way, he was alive at least. This way he had a chance.   
It was a long drive to LA. Maybe the BAU would catch up to them, save them. Maybe he'd catch Vic unawares somehow and be able to get the gun... Maybe.  
It was all Reid could hope for anymore. 

As it was, they were chanceless. 

And if Vic brought them all the way to Joe Cabot before they were rescued-

Reid couldn’t even bring himself to think about that. 

It had sounded like blackmailing Seth with him was Vic's spur of the moment idea. There was no guarantee that Cabot would go along with it. And even if he did....he would only need to keep him alive to put pressure on Seth, not Morgan.   
Reid knew he could threaten to hurt himself all he wanted, they would no doubt just restrain him enough to make it impossible. Morgan was only alive because Vic wanted to see Seth kill him. Once they got to LA, either Cabot would decide that waiting for Seth was a pointless risk and kill Morgan himself, or he would make Seth do it.

Not that that would take much convincing...

For the dozenth time in as many minutes, Reid forced down a swell of panic at the reality of the situation, struggled to keep functioning. 

Breathe. Keep breathing. 

There was no way out other than the BAU and a small number of unlikely scenarios in which he could save Morgan. Nothing to do for him but buy them time and hold on to hope, to try and bargain with Cabot once they got to LA, no matter how hopeless it seemed. 

All of which meant playing along with Vic now. 

Which meant calling Seth.

He took a shallow, pressed breath as he stared at the phone, hands beginning to shake worse. What if Seth didn't pick up because he hadn't seen the blood or because he'd thrown away his phone? What if he refused to come? After the way things had ended-

His finger slipped off the fifth number and he almost dropped the phone, panic slowly winning over him.   
No. No- Seth had to-

“Hey!” He jumped when Vic snapped at him and shot him a dark look, jaw moving in a way that made Reid shake even worse. “Dial the fucking number, or do I have to do it for you?”

“Please-” he choked out, unable to stop himself, despite knowing how pointless it would be. “Please. We're past the border. I promise I won't try anything -please, just let Morgan go now. You don't need him-”

He stared at Vic, pleading with burning eyes, but was only met with more detachment and irritation. 

“Oh, we're back to that? Pretending that you have choices?” 

A rough hand grabbed his neck, too fast for Reid to even flinch before it pressed into his muscles painfully, immobilizing him.   
“Fine, you get a choice, right now. You do what you said you'd do. Or. I open up that trunk and waste your friend right here and now. What's it gonna be?”

Reid managed to shake his head, vision swimming from the pain. “They'll kill him-”

“Finally caught up, huh?” Vic chuckled, watching him struggle with condescension. “Yeah, he's a goner. Nobody likes a witness. But hey, thanks for your cooperation anyway.” 

The man looked at Reid's devastated expression with an air of amusement, then shrugged. “If it helps, you still made the right decision. Joe might even let you say goodbye before he puts him under, who knows? Or he'll let Seth have him, to sweeten the deal so to speak. That might not be so quick. But even then-” He drew closer, too close, forcing Reid to stay in place with his grip. “Whatever you think good old Seth is going to do to lover boy back there, it would look like child's play next to what I could come up with on the spot, and I only like the first option so much much more. So yeah, you'll wanna stay with the program here unless you want me to change my mind and do him in myself.” 

His lips pulled apart to reveal rows of gleaming white teeth; he stared at Reid with gleaming eyes, grinning when the younger man trembled, horrified, silenced. “I'm assuming you're finished? Or should I have you start digging a grave over there? I don't have a shovel but you'd have plenty of time-” 

“No!” Reid nodded as best he could despite the sharp pain the movement caused, “I-Yes! Please, I'm sorry-”

For another terrible moment, Vic just held him in that bruising grip, staring absentmindedly, like he was still considering his options, then, when Reid thought his heart might actually stop, he suddenly let go, pulling back. “Well then...I believe you have a call to make. See if the pity-me-bit works better on Seth.”

Shaking, Reid picked up the phone again and forced himself to dial Seth's number, praying the man would pick up.

Seth answered on the third ring, his voice so icy that a shudder came over him. 

“You're dead, Vic. I will tear you limb from limb- after I break every fucking bone in your miserable body.”   
He wasn't even yelling, just stating things in a tone that made it clear he was dead serious. Next to him, Vic chuckled. Reid closed his eyes, exhaling, struggling to find his voice.

“Seth-” He hated the way his voice trembled but was unable to help it. Despite how terrifying Seth had sounded just then, a wave of relief had still washed through Reid. 

He'd picked up, he wasn't indifferent...there was a chance now-

“Seth,” he started again, “W-we're in California. Please, you have to come to LA- to Cabot's-”

He inhaled shakily, not knowing what else to say, where to start, how to convince Seth-

“Spencer.” There was the slightest hitch in Seth's steely tone, the next words sounding pressed, “How badly are you hurt?”

“He's just peachy, Seth,” Vic cut in good-naturedly, “If you want it to stay that way you'd better reconsider Joe's offer. And fast. We'll get there in the morning. Don't make us wait.”

And with that, he reached over and ended the call without waiting for a response. 

“Well, I think that went well,” he winked at Reid before starting the motor and driving back onto the road.


	48. Chapter 48

A_M_Kelly, thanks for reviewing :-* Glad you still like it. Btw if there's something u (or anyone) want(s) to read in specific, lemme know, and I'll see if I can't incorporate it :D

xxx

“What do you think happened?”

The litte motel room was buzzing around them, police officers falling all over themselves in their haste to produce case results, but the core of the BAU team was standing still, all of them momentarily giving over to exhaustion. They had looked at every little detail in the room and gotten no further. 

Morgan was gone.

“I don't know what happened,” Emily shook her head, “Morgan ditched me and wouldn't answer his phone for hours on end...I only found his car by chance. I had to look through every single room in this motel before I found this one.”

“He must have found them,” JJ murmured, anxiously gripping at her long hair. “If he found them and confronted them- maybe that's the blood on the mattress?” She glanced at the bed and away again quickly.

“We won't know till the blood works come back and that could be hours...Why the hell wouldn't he call for back up if he thought he'd found them?” Rossi growled, equally upset and helpless.

“Maybe they got the jump on him,” Emily frowned, “But even if so...why would they have left him alive? I mean, we are assuming he's alive, right? There's not enough blood to think otherwise and there would eb no point in dragging him away only to kill him somewhere else? I mean, Gecko is hardly gonna try to cover his signature. He knows that we know it's him. Wouldn't he just have killed Morgan and run?”

“Maybe it's Cabot's man,” Rossi murmured, “I mean, if we're assuming that they met up and are working together.” 

“Why would they though? I mean, if Seth Gecko killed both of Cabot's men they would hardly be on good terms...”

“Yes, but we don't know that for sure, whoever killed those two men was smart enough not to leave the murder weapon or other DNA at the crime scene...we don't know for sure what happened...all we know is that Reid and Gecko are gone, and so are Morgan and, presumably, Cabot's guy. We can't know for sure, but I think all four of them might have met....there was some sort of confrontation, soemthing we don't know about, and now they're all gone.”

The others nodded, grim faced. They knew what that had to mean. If Morgan had come out of that confrontation successful he would have called.

“They're alive,” JJ said after a long moment of somber silence, “There are no bodies. We have to believe they are alive. We just need to find them.”

After a moment, both Rossi and Prentiss nodded, straightening up. 

“We need to look into Joe Cabot. If his man is involved in this we might get a lead if we watch him. We need to look at everything, every one of his properties, every employee and associate. Turn over every stone till we find something.”

xxx

“Are you shitting me right now, Vic? Seth. Seth-I-don't-give-a-fuck-about-anyone-but-my-psycho-brother-Gecko was out there playing house? With a guy. This guy?”

Reid cringed feeling the penetrating stares he was subjected to. His whole body was thrumming with anxiety, with barely suppressed fight or flight instinct.

He wanted nothing more than to run, but of course, that wasn't an option. He shifted apprehensively, and winced when the grip around his upper arm tightened painfully, keeping him still. 

Vic had told him to keep his mouth shut before dragging him off the car lot and into the office building that was apparently used to hide Joe Cabot's shady business enterprise. He was coming to see why that might be good advice to follow.

Joe Cabot was an imposing, heavy-set man with hardened features who was sitting behind his desk looking like the Godfather himself. The man standing next to him was equally heavy and mean-faced, like a younger version of the crime boss.  
Both men were looking Reid up and down with hard, critical eyes, obviously torn between incredulity and anger at Vic's recent revelation about him.  
This clearly wasn't a development they had hoped for.

“Yeah, well...what can I say?” Vic grinned at the younger man's outburst, shrugging.

Joe Cabot glared at Vic, clearly far from intrigued. “And what the hell am I supposed to do with that information?” he barked, “I told you to bring Seth Gecko to me, not his- whatever the hell you say he is.”  
He jabbed a thick finger in Reid's direction without looking at him, talking over his head like all of them had since they'd entered the office.

Reid hadn't tried to correct them, just standing by tensely and praying that Vic had enough say with these men to convince them to leave them alive until Seth got here. His heart was racing, the level of anxiety he was feeling becoming harder and harder to suppress. They were angry -of course they were, what Vic had done was idiotic- there was no way they would go along with this- 

He felt himself go dizzy, nausea spiking up, and Vic's hand around his arm tightened once more.

“Oh, but he's coming,” Vic assured Cabot, not even mildly intimidated by his boss' angry glare. “In fact, he should be here within a couple of hours. See, problem was, Seth decided he wasn’t going to join us and refused to change his mind even after I asked nicely. Why, you ask? Well, that brings us back to what I was just telling you about our new friend Spencer here.” He waved at Reid dramatically with his free hand, “Seth quit 'cause he's in love. Can't argue with love....so I improvised.”

When the two criminals behind the desk continued to look at him with a mixture of disbelief and impatience, Vic sighed, again overly dramatic, and elaborated. “Gee, Joe, Eddie, gimme a minute here to explain, will ya? It's a complex situation, alright?”

“I'm startin' to see that.” The younger man, Eddie, deadpanned, looking over Reid once more, intrusive and entirely without meeting his eyes.  
“Seth?” he then said again distractedly, shaking his head, “Really?” 

He walked over to them, coming to stand much too close as he stared at him, unabashed, somewhere between squicked and curious. Reid held his breath, every muscle in his body tensed, fighting down the urge to recoil, to bring distance between himself and the two criminals who were now both entirely too close, too boding. He could feel Vic breathing down his neck, still pressing bruises into his skin, and knew he wasn’t going anywhere no matter what he did. 

So he said nothing, did nothing, just stared at the man in front of him blankly.

It wasn't like he even remotely cared what they thought about him and Seth together. If they felt sick at the thought they were in good company. He didn't care what they did, how insulting they were, what they did to him...he hadn't been bluffing when he'd told Vic he was ready to die.  
He was.  
In fact, if it had been only his life on the line he would have spit in the guy's face right now, would have told them not to bother waiting for Seth. But it wasn't only his life -Morgan, think about Morgan- so all he could do was scream internally while he played along, praying that the Cabot's would go along with Vic's outlandish idea of a strategy.

For now, it didn't look good though.

Joe Cabot was still in his seat, silently grinding his teeth, frustration obviously growing with every second without a proper explanation from Vic. 

Eddie, slightly less impatient, assessed Reid for another moment, before turning back to Vic, huffing. “Huh....you sure about this, man?” 

Vic just shrugged at Eddie, sounding mildly amused, “Hey, I wasn't banking on this kinda shit either, but it's a pretty fortunate development, ain't it?”

“Fortunate?” Joe finally exploded, standing in his chair and immediately looking even meaner, “Thanks to you I have one guy standing in my office who's clearly heard far too much about my operation already, I have another one lying unconscious in a backroom, and despite all that I'm not one step closer to the guy I need doing this job for me. Jesus fucking Christ, Vic, I have half a mind to bury you right alongside those two for this shit!” 

Nobody seemed to register Reid's sharp intake of breath, his fearful expression at that.

“I told you he's coming, Joe, calm down,” Vic sighed, still eerily calm despite his boss' anger. He yanked Reid forward by his arm, like he was showing him off. “He's coming for him. Call him if you want. He will do the job -he'll do everything you tell him to do, because if he doesn’t, it's bye bye, birdie. And he wouldn't want that, would he, Spencer?” 

He looked down at Reid with a mean grin, entirely too sure of himself. 

Reid couldn't even muster up a glare, his fear growing harder and harder to suppress with Cabot talking about Morgan and graves, overshadowing any anger he might have otherwise felt. 'Please, please, no....say something, convince them', he was silently praying. 'Just a little longer....we need more time-'

Vic's conclusions about Reid's love life, what he had heard Seth say back in the motel room, and what he assumed about him and Morgan...those details, ironically, were the reason Morgan was alive now...the only reason he might stay alive a little longer... he wasn't about to contradict any of that.

“He'll be here,” he pressed out, forcing himself to focus, “He'll do what you ask of him -but not if you kill us. If you want your heist to happen, you need us.” 

He stared at Joe Cabot with the most conviction he could muster and for a moment the crime boss did actually look at him, assessing him. Reid held his breath, not allowing himself to waver. To look like he actually believed that.

Truth was of course, he didn't know if he was right.  
It had sounded like it on the phone, maybe...their fallout had been brutal and ugly, but he wouldn't rule out that Seth would still try to save him. Either way...he wasn't actually banking on that, wasn't actually waiting for Seth to show up here.  
Seth wouldn't make anything better; he wouldn't save Morgan. All he might do was keep Reid alive while Morgan was killed -and that would be an even worse fate than if both of them died right now at Cabot's hand. 

No, all that waiting for Seth's arrival might do was to buy them time. Buy the team time. Buy him time to find a way out- no matter how unlikely it was, how small the chance. There hadn't been an opportunity on the way here, none whatsoever.  
But he couldn’t stop fighting, couldn’t give up hope.  
Once again, Reid desperately let his thoughts wander, off to scenarios where he somehow got hold of a weapon, or managed to sneak them out himself.  
Part of him knew it was crazy. Even if he hadn’t felt so pathetically unstable and weak- If he hadn't had a chance against just Vic and a gun, how was he supposed to hold his own against the good half dozen men he'd seen on the premises so far? How was he supposed to get Morgan out of a locked room, unconscious as he still was? 

No...it couldn’t be done.

And yet. 

“So it speaks,” the corner of Eddie's mouth quirked up briefly. Then he sighed, “Fine, Vic, I'll cave on the kid, even if I don't wanna believe it. But what about that other guy? The witness? We run a legitimate business here, we don't need the risk of someone finding him tied up in a back room.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Joe grumbled darkly, “You should have never brought him here in the first place. Now someone has to drive all the way out to the hills to dig a grave.”

Reid had thought he'd been prepared, he'd known. Still, his stomach dropped, nausea hitting him in the face of their callousness, the reality of what had been bound to happen. 

“No, you can't-” He was struggling against Vic's grip before he knew it, ready to plead, to bargain, to fight...but before he could, Vic's free hand was suddenly around his neck, clamping down on his trachea.  
Reid jerked, clawing at the man's man as he unsuccessfully gasped for air. 

“Hey,” Vic leaned in, smiling one of his disgusting smiles at him, all the while keeping his grip, “We're talking business here, kid, can't you see that? Now, don't make me hit you in the head, alright? We both know Seth wouldn't like that.” 

He smirked again, then abruptly let Reid go altogether, leaving the young man to stumble to the ground, gasping for air.  
Then he turned, unimpressed, back to the Cabot's. “Anyway, if you'd let me finish the story- You really should cause it gets funnier.”  
He chuckled, ignoring both Reid's terror and the Cabots' irritation, like he couldn't see that he was the only one who found the situation funny.  
“Right, so yeah....that other guy, I wanna say Mark? Anyway, Mark and Spencer are a couple. Now before you protest, I know I said Seth was the one playing house with dear Spencer here. Well, that was maybe romanticizing the situation just a tad. Think of Spencer here as more of a kidnappee if you will. Seth is waaay into him. Other way around, not so much I guess. Match made in Stockholm. You know the Geckos. All very sweet. Aaaanyway, I just happened to walk in on good ole Mark when he was about to steal Spence right back back. Long story long, the guy isn't just a witness, he's the only person that Seth is likely to be even more pissed at than us at the moment, considering that whole kidnappee kidnapping business. So...I figure why not let Seth have the honor of offing him? Might break the ice a little -he sounded just a tad homicidal on the phone when Spence and I called him earlier.”

When Vic finally finished his narration with a wide smile, the Cabot's were literally gaping at him. 

Naturally. What had happened sounded even more insane summarized this way. Especially considering that it was being told to two crimes bosses like it was office gossip.

Reid would have wondered if Vic was actually as messed up in the head as Richie had been, or if he had done this because he was mad at Seth for something that had happened in the past -but he was still too focused on the nightmare that was Morgan's situation instead, mind racing through horrid scenarios. 

Meanwhile, Eddie was shaking his head, bewildered, and Joe Cabot was rubbing his temple, jaw clenching and unclenching. “Fucking Christ, I ask a simple thing of you and you turn it into Gays of Our Lives?” he murmured as though to himself, shaking his head. 

“Honestly, Joe,” Vic threw in, still essentially unbothered, “You do what you wanna do. I thought of a creative and entertaining way to solve a problem. But blow him away now if that's how you want it. Do them both, and then deal with getting Seth on bord - I don't really care either way. I got my job done.”

“Right, thanks,” Eddie scoffed. “Great choices you give us. Just great. Dad-” He turned to Cabot, shrugging, “Putting aside that Vic needs his head bashed in for pulling this shit – they're already here. Let's just keep them locked in that room till Seth shows up, take it from there. We ain't moving no bodies before nightfall anyway.”

'Yes! Please, please, please-'

Reid stared at Cabot with his breath held, pulse rushing in his ears, desperate. 

Cabot glared at both Vic and his son angrily. 

“I'll say yes -if only it means I don't have to hear anymore fag love stories,” he growled, exasperated.  
Then he pointed a threatening finger at Vic. “Listen to me. You don't pull this kinda shit, you hear me, Vic? I run a business here and I don't need this kind of heat, this risk. I am the one making the decisions -not you or Eddie.” He frowned. “I'll let it slide for now, but you better hope it turns out that you were right, and that this was the only way to get Seth here. Either way, you'll be dealing with the fallout. You started this, you finish it. I have 5 other guys to deal with besides you. If this goes down, you'd better hope to God you're the only one going down with it.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Vic just saluted him lazily, earning himself another scowl. 

Joe sank back down behind his desk. “Get him outta here before I change my mind.”


	49. Chapter 49

"There we are," Vic smirked as he wrenched the heavy door open and all but shoved Reid through it, "You two have a good rest of your life now."

He was gone, the door locking behind him before Reid could find his balance again.

The young man didn't waste a second staring after the criminal, immediately whirling around, eyes locking on the figure that lied motionlessly on the bare floor of the empty office.

"Morgan!" He ran over to his friend, heart racing as he fell to his knees next to him.

With shaking hands he reached out and turned Morgan onto his back, checking for his pulse and breathing. The older agent responded with a pained groan to the prodding, face crunching into a grimace.

"Oh, thank God," Reid felt himself shaking with utter relief, fingers clenching in his friend's shirt helplessly, "Morgan, can you hear me? Please, I need you to open your eyes."

Morgan groaned again when Reid nudged him as gently as he could bring himself to despite his acute worry, and finally his eyes fluttered open.

"Wha-" he hissed, one hand coming up in a disoriented movement to touch his surely throbbing head in the spot where he'd been hit not once but twice.

"Morgan, I need you to look at me," Reid did his best to keep his voice from shaking as he took hold of Morgan's hand, stilling it, "Can you see and hear me fine?"

A nod.

"Okay, what's today's date?"

Morgan scrunched his eyes shut, grumbling like he wanted nothing but to drift off again but Reid asked the question again and something in the tone of his voice made Morgan more aware, made him look up and answer that and the next two control questions.

Reid's shoulders sagged when he was done, momentary relief flooding him. It looked like there was no permanent damage...for now at least.

The relief he felt vanished quickly when he thought of how quickly that might change, of how dire the situation really still was. Immediately, he was terrified again, fighting to keep his wits about himself. He couldn't allow himself to lose focus now, not with Morgan incapacitated...

"Morgan, can you sit up?" he asked breathlessly, trying unsuccessfully not to let his distress bleed through, "We need to get out of here. You need to get up. Please."

He knew that Morgan needed rest, that he shouldn't move with possible head trauma -but they didn't have that luxury right now. Their time was quickly running out and they needed to come up with a plan to get out of here before-

Again, Reid forcefully pushed down the panic lapping at the edges of his determination, ignoring the voice in his head crying that it was all pointless.

He carefully helped Morgan sit up against the wall farthest from the door and then sat and waited as the older man regained his bearings, all the while looking around the room, trying to figure out a way to get them out.

There were no windows in here, no furniture. Just the door, the scratchy carpet, and an old, rusty radiator by the other wall which looked to be screwed into the wall tightly. No possible weapons. Nothing. They would have to incapacitate whoever came through that door next-

"Where are we?" Morgan asked, breaking through his feverish thinking, "What happ- oh my God, Reid!" His eyes suddenly snapped open and he stared at Reid like what had recently happened was only fully coming back to him in that moment. His eyes darted from Reid's pale face around the room and to the door. "The guy? Vic- where is he-? What-?"

"We're in LA," Reid told him as levelly as he could manage, "I tried to find a way, Morgan...but there wasn't. He had his gun on us the entire time, I couldn't-" His voice cracked and he had to stop and look away.

"Hey," Morgan somehow managed to sound calm then, touching a grounding hand to his arm. "Reid, it's not your fault. There wasn't anything you could have done. Hey, calm down...we'll figure this out. We'll get out of here."

Reid nodded numbly, doing his best to focus on Morgan and not on the voices screaming in his head, telling him otherwise, pulling his focus. "We- we need to go for a blitz attack...it's the only way. Get a gun, make a run for it...the parking lot, I saw-"

"Okay, yeah. We'll do that." Morgan's hand was still rubbing circles into his arm and Reid dully felt the memory of Vic's fingerprints ache there. '

We don't stand a chance.'

Did Morgan know that? Was that why he was so calm, why he was just sitting there, soothing him- was he the only one who hadn't gotten the inevitability of the situation yet?

His eyes flitted to Morgan's face, desperate to be wrong.

All he saw though was the face of his best friend, the familiar creases and lines that he had missed sorely for so long, that reminded him of so much good he had experienced, of how much love...and then the memory of Morgan lying shot in the bank, bleeding out while Seth dragged him away, of Vic's cruel eyes, of the Cabot's cold detachment-

The next breath he drew in sounded traitorously like a sob; he felt his body shake and Morgan grabbing him more tightly, worried. "Reid-"

'He's going to die. There's nothing you can do. They're going to make you watch.'

It was impossible to shut it out suddenly, impossible to keep the terror he was feeling at bay. They wouldn't make it. How could they possibly-

"Reid!" Tight grip on both his shoulders now. He fought to regain his focus through the pain of the contact, to hang on to something- 'Elle's throat, torn open, her empty eyes, Gideon's face splattered with blood, Hotch's death grip on his wrist...nothing, nothing he could do-'

His vision began to swim again, white flecks dancing in front of his eyes while indistinguishable sounds of terror echoed in his ears. It was them, their cries and screams, Morgan's...his own ragged, erratic breathing.

"Reid. Reid- it's alright- Spencer, come on-" Morgan's voice broke through the haze, only faintly at first, then louder, closer. A warm, strong hand touched his face. Familiar. Alive. For now.

"Reid, breathe. Come on, man, come on-"

Reid pressed his eyes shut, feeling hot tears on his face as he struggled, gathering every ounce of strength he had left to pull himself together. He couldn't do this now. Couldn't break down like this, weak and pathetic...Not like before when he'd pulled back into himself just to finally escape that terrible feeling of helplessness, of knowing there were no options. It hadn't mattered then, when it had only been him, but now, it was Morgan.

Morgan needed him. Needed him to focus, no matter how hard it was for him. It wasn't over yet. He couldn't give up, even though every second of living with this awareness was killing him. Even though he knew it was pointless to fight, just like it had been the first time around.

"I'm sorry, I'm fine-" he gasped, willing himself to stop shaking so badly.

He wanted to tell Morgan to stop patting him like he was dealing with a trauma victim, disgusted with himself, but he couldn't get himself to draw away from the contact, the warmth.

"Reid," Morgan's voice was much stronger now, almost back to it's usually color, "I know this is hard for you, with everything you've been through. You need to let me handle this. I'll get us out of here, I won't let them hurt you, you have to believe that."

A laugh forced himself out of his throat at that, coming out more like a strangled sob. If only he knew how funny that was.

"Don't you get it, Morgan?! It's not about me. It's you! They'll kill you, tonight. Not me, not- I wish, I...if I could have just died...then we wouldn't be- but he wouldn't let me... he won't- and he won't stop them- even if he could- He'll j-just watch, make me watch...and there's nothing I can do, or say...I would, don't you think I would?! I don't know what I have left to give, I- Morgan, I can't, I can't...not again-"

Morgan felt his heart ache at the sight of Reid, young, sweet, innocent Reid, so utterly torn and broken in front of him.

He'd known his best friend was in bad shape, had immediately seen it in every detail, in his expression, the way he talked and moved-

But now...it was like a punch to the gut seeing him fall apart like this, so utterly distraught and hopeless.

He could barely make out what Reid was saying anymore, so distorted was his speech by then, but he still got the picture loud and clear.

Vic had gotten his way. They would try to bait Gecko with Reid, try to make him work for them in exchange for his hostage back. Him, they didn't need. They would either kill him themselves or they would let Gecko do it.

And that bastard would enjoy it, most likely. With him out of the way he would be free to drag Reid off into the middle of nowhere again, to drag him back into the hell he had only so briefly escaped.

Morgan had always imagined the worst since he'd found out that Gecko had kidnapped Reid after the bar, but from what he could make out from Reid's scrambled sobs now...it was even worse.

He'd made him watch the rest of the team die, clearly...had forced him to live with the knowledge that he'd been unable to help them...had for all he knew forced himself on Reid, subjected him to the torture of having no choice but to submit to the man who had killed everyone he'd loved- had driven him to the point of wishing for death, only to not even grant him that escape...he'd reduced the once strong and bright young man he'd known to this hopeless, pitiful shadow of a person.

Once again, Morgan fiercely swore bloody revenge on Seth Gecko from the bottom of his heart. That man would suffer for what he had done, Morgan would make sure of it.

"Reid," he forced himself to keep his voice calm and strong, to not let his emotions bleed through, "I'm not going to let that happen. I need you to believe me. I will kill him before I let him hurt you again."

With pain in his chest, he watched the tears in Reid's eyes flow over at those words, more pain and despair being thrown at him instead of relief.

He didn't understand it, not beyond the point that Reid was probably so overwrought and exhausted by now that he couldn't keep his emotions straight anymore.

He pulled the young man close, hugging him tightly on impulse. "It's going to be alright," he murmured, again, and then again, "Spencer, it's going to be alright."

He knew obviously that the situation was dire, that he might well die today. The chances were slim if the team didn't happen to find them, and who knew if they were even looking in the right direction?

But whatever happened, he sure as hell wasn't going to let it happen in front of Reid, and not at all if there was any way he could stop it. They wanted to kill him? He would give them a hell of a fight. If not for himself, then so Gecko wouldn't get his hands on Reid again.

They sat for what seemed like a very long time, Morgan with murder on his mind while he waited for Reid to calm down, to be able to take in information again.

"I have a plan," he finally said, determined, "but I'll need your help."

.

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Sorry if Reid is not getting anything done really. He is trying at least, and please remember, he's doing pretty good now, having pulled himself together after he was near catatonic already. He's been through a lot. Of course, he only came back for Morgan so...yeah...

Next chapter should be Seth, Vic, and the Cabot's I think...or more Reid/Morgan? I dunno. Should Reid tell Morgan more about what happened? I kinda feel like Morgan drawing his own conclusions is worse somehow. But he knows most of what's important...

Well, anyway, please Review, lovely people, and I shall write more :))


	50. Chapter 50

They shouldn't have tried, should have known it would end like this. 

He pressed his eyes shut against pain and tears, nausea and panic, futilely struggling against his binds.

There was no escape.

xxx

 

Seth Gecko looked murderous storming across the parking lot and over to the Cabot's main office.   
It seemed like Vic had been understating in saying that the man was merely pissed. 

'Nice Guy' Eddie almost winced, briefly worried for his friend then. 

Seth J. Gecko was many things, but definitely not someone on whose bad side you wanted to get. Between the short fuse and the trigger finger, things tended to get bloody rather quickly around him the way he remembered it, even without the younger Gecko brother in the equation. 

As doubtful as he still was about it, Eddie found himself hoping for Vic's sake that their hostage could be used to put pressure on the man. Vic was messed up and aggravating, but he didn't want him to lose any limbs over this. Nor did he want himself or his dad to get into the line of fire.

He frowned, hand landing on the gun at his belt as he turned away from the window to alert Vic and his father to the thief's arrival. “He's here. And out for blood from the looks of it.”

Predictably, Vic only chuckled in response, looking towards the door with a kind of excited expectancy, like he couldn't wait to be on the wrong side of the Seth's wrath. “Well, let's say hello then.”

Joe groaned as he heaved himself out of his chair, glaring at Vic again. “Eddie, if this knuckle-head here ends up getting shot, you're cleaning my carpet.”

“Don't worry, dad,” Eddie said, just in the same moment that the door was shoved open and Seth Gecko was upon them. 

The man hadn't changed much since their last encounter, still all sharp angles and hard edges, with bottomless, black eyes that were blazing with danger. He was clad in the expected black suit, holding the expected cocked gun in one hand.   
Eddie had just enough time to see that the other hand was balled into a fist before it connected with Vic's face with a loud crunch, knocking his friend back with enough force to make him crash into the desk.   
Then, in a blink, Seth was on him again, looking almost feral as he pressed his gun under Vic's chin. “You fucking-!”

“Hey!” Eddie yelled, alarmed, pulling out his own gun, “Back off, ya hear me?!”

“Seth, get the hell off him now!” Joe growled. 

They were ignored by both Seth and Vic, the latter who grinned down at Seth, just as feral. “Better, do as they say, buddy, or I know someone who will be oh-so-sorry.”

At that, Seth actually snarled, teeth bared like he was contemplating ripping Vic's throat out with them. He jerked forward, but then froze mid-motion abruptly, gritting his teeth. Vic just raised an eyebrow, like he was daring Seth to contradict his theories.

For a moment, neither man backed down, then, finally, Seth pulled back, visibly struggling with himself as he slowly lowered his gun. 

“Joe, you'd better fucking rethink how you're gonna play this,” he said darkly, all the while keeping his hateful stare directed at Vic. His hands were still clenched tightly by his sides. “You give him back to me right now, you hand him over -and I will rethink leaving here without taking all of your fucking heads off.”

Vic scoffed and Eddie found a second to feel astonished that apparently his friend had been right. Seth did care about that guy they had locked up. Huh, good thing they hadn't killed him after all. 

His father straightened himself up to his full imposing height, demanding the attention he was due. “You look at me now, Seth Gecko,” he barked, “Or Vic is gonna be the least of your goddamn problems.”

It took a long moment before Seth looked at him, but then his glare was no less deadly. Eddie shifted nervously, closer to his father.  
There had never been a lot of sympathy or respect between the two men, even during their more amicable co-operations, but now- 

Still, this was their turf. Gecko wasn't getting out of here alive if he should decide to be stupid and shoot them up and he would know that -but he would likely leave a hell of a mess if he decided to do that, and that couldn't happen. Silently, Eddie prepared himself for a violent turn in the conversation.   
For the moment though, it stayed just that, conversation.

“I owe you nothing, Joe,” Seth snapped, “If you think I'm risking my own head to pay back some debt Richie had with you-”

“It's much more than that now, you killed two of my men, what do you call that?!” Joe fired back, equally aggressive. “You're damn right you're risking everything I want you to risk-!”

“I'm fucking dead!” Seth yelled, not even attempting to apologize, “If anyone found out that I'm alive I'd be right back on the FBI's most wanted list! What did you think I was gonna do, let that happen?! And before you say it again -I'm not taking part in any heists! My face is a screen saver on every goddamn cop phone from here to the Atlantic, it wouldn't take them more than five minutes to make us! You cannot be this goddamn stupid, Joe!”

“Hey! You watch how you talk to my dad!” Eddie snapped, but neither man looked at him, the staring match continuing.

“Make no mistake, Seth,” Joe said darkly after a long moment, a storm brewing in his eyes, “There are exactly two ways you can go from here. You wanna play Rambo and try to shoot your way outta here, I have half an army between you and the exit, not to mention that boy of yours. You just go ahead and try it, and I promise you'll be alive just long enough to see me put a bullet in that kid's head. You won't need to worry about the police then.”

Seth twitched minimally, looking pale for the blink of an eye, and Eddie knew him well enough to know that the man wasn't suddenly scared for himself. So yes to leverage then. Vic's grin went from one ear to the next now; he was obviously enjoying being right.

“Now, what I highly suggest you do,” Joe continued, still glaring, “is to listen and do what I tell you to do. I need you for this heist. I can make it so no one will find out it's you. And if you help us pull it off, I'm not only willing to forget about my men and let you walk away alive with that boy, I will even give you a share of the money.”

“It's a no-brainer, Seth,” Eddie added, wanting the tense atmosphere in the room to dissipate sooner rather than later, “You do this for us and then you pick up and walk away. You can take the money and go hide in Mexico again.”

He breathed through the thick silence that followed, waiting for Seth to react, to make up his mind. For a long moment the dark-haired man just stood, staring down Joe, likely weighing his options. Then finally, he nodded minimally, without even slightly relaxing his posture. 

Eddie did his best not to let his mouth fall open in surprise.

“One job,” Seth clarified, “And you'll guarantee me his safety.”

“He'll be just as safe as he ever was with you,” Vic sneered from the side, and Eddie cursed inwardly when Seth made an aborted movement like he was about to try and bash the man's head in again. 

“I don't care what you do with the kid,” Joe shrugged, already losing interest now that he'd won his argument, “I don't care about your personal drama. You take care of that however you see fit. But you're not taking him anywhere until this is over. From what I understand he wasn't with you by choice?”   
He took a moment to take Seth's stony silence as a yes. “Right then. All the more reason to make sure he doesn't go anywhere. You make sure he gets that. If he tries to run -with or without you- or jeopardize this operation, he's dead. I will have no witnesses to this.”

Seth didn't blink, his face a blank mask now except for his eyes. “He's not going anywhere. I'll make sure.”

“Yes, well, you and the men I'll assign to guard him. Don't think you can screw me over on this, Seth.”

This time, Seth didn't rise to the bait, his new resolution granting him an eerie sort of calm. “If they touch him they're dead,” he said matter of factly, leaving no doubt that he meant it.

Joe shrugged, indifferent. “I'll tell them to take that into consideration in the future.”

The wording of that statement clearly wasn't lost on Seth, who tensed, immediately resuming his aggressive, barely restrained stance from before. 

“What,” he hissed, eyes blazing dangerously, “is that supposed to mean?”


	51. Chapter 51

“What,” Seth hissed, eyes blazing dangerously, “is that supposed to mean?”

Joe frowned at the man's tone but before he could answer, Vic cut in, leaning over conspicuously as he smirked at Seth.   
“Relax, pal, he's still in one pretty piece. Little banged up is all. He and that other guy tried to make a break for it bout an hour ago and we had to make sure they wouldn't try again. Nothing you couldn't kiss better though.”

Seth stared at Vic, seething. It took a long moment before he seemed to process the whole of what had been said.   
Then his eyes widened fractionally.

“What other guy?”

“Oh, riiight....that.” Vic smirked. “You left the show early so you missed him. Well, turns out that from wherever you snatched up your boy, he already had a boyfriend there. I know, ouch. Anyway, the kid was about to sneak outta your grasp with that guy until I intercepted them. So hey, maybe you should be thanking me.”

Seth didn't blink, his face back to being an emotionless mask by then. Whatever he might be thinking, Eddie couldn't tell.

“What happened to the other guy?” he asked coldly, “Did you kill him?”

“Is that how you think of me?” Vic asked, still taunting him, “Of course not. I left him for you, figured you'd want a piece of that. I even convinced Joe here to let you whack him instead of doing it himself.”

“How considerate,” Seth said, clipped. 

Vic shrugged, “Yeah, well, to be honest, I didn't just steer clear because I wanted to see what you look like jealous. Your sweetheart was also pretty convincing in threatening to off himself if that Mark guy should die. I figured you'd wanna deal with that, since it looks like you've already had that particular spat before.” 

He grinned again and Eddie secretly had to give his friend credit for effortlessly hitting every single sore spot that might have come up in this conversation.   
Wow, it was a wonder Seth was still just standing there, taking his shit. For a moment, Seth just stared Vic down, his jaw working silently.   
Then he looked at Joe. “I'll need time to figure out how to handle that. If he hurts himself...I don't need to spell out for you that that'll be it for the deal.”

Joe sighed in exasperation, rolling his eyes. “Fuck, Seth, I think I liked you better when you were pyscho for that fuck-up of a brother of yours. But what the hell, yeah...figure it out. If he needs to be locked up permanently, there's a location we can move him to. But not before tonight. Same goes for putting the other guy under.”

He waited impatiently until Seth nodded, then eased himself back into his chair noisily. “Good. Before that, we have business to talk anyway. We're on a tight schedule...the other guys on the job have already been briefed and the team meeting is soon. You need to be caught up.”

“I'm going to see him first,” Seth answered, “Now.”

Joe shot him another dirty look but at the sight of Seth's stony face he sighed, waving the matter off.

“Suit yourself. Vic, Eddie, you go with him. I will see you back here in 30 minutes.”

By the time he looked back up, Seth was already out the door.


	52. Chapter 52

Oh god, please don't kill me... :'( 

It's still not the full conversation, only what leads up to it sorta...please don't hate me. I tried to get it all but it was getting so, so long, and I don't know how long a wait it woulda been if I'd gone over all of it until it was good enough. So...here's Part 1 in the hopes that I will get Part 2 up this week end. Fingers crossed :)

(I think after this is outta the way it should be easier again, all the inner monologues and reasonings just take so much work. The action should be easier to write^^)

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x

It had almost worked.

At least, Morgan liked to think so.

They'd waited just long enough for him to get most of his strength and coordination back before setting his escape plan into motion.

Given their means, it had been rather simplistic.

Morgan had yelled through the door, claiming that Reid was having some sort of attack, that he wasn't breathing right, until someone had come in. Whatever the men working for Cabot had been told, it clearly included keeping Reid alive at least, because when a man entered to see him lying, seemingly unconscious, on the floor, he hadn't hesitated for long before entering the room and hurrying towards him.

Morgan hadn't wasted a second, tackling the man the second he let his guard down, knocking him out and taking his gun. They had run then, through long, empty hallways, relying on Reid's recollection of where the parking lot was.

They had been depressingly close to the exit when Morgan had rounded a corner, only to stop short when he was confronted with the barrel of a gun. Reid had nearly run into him from behind, only barely catching himself.

There had been two of them, quickly joined by two more the second they turned around to run back. All of them with guns aimed and ready to fire, all of them clearly more than ready to use their fists to resolve the situation.

Even outnumbered, Morgan had put up a vigorous fight, fueled by the knowledge that he had nothing to lose, and Reid had undoubtedly used every ounce of strength he had to help him -but in the end it had been no use.

There wasn't much else he remembered after that except for his racing heart, the rush of adrenaline which quickly failed to mask the pain blossoming from the assault of punches and kicks raining down on him. After the second time they hit his head, he'd lost most of his balance and coordination, and after that it had been an easy game for them.

He'd honestly thought they'd kill him then and there; it had certainly felt like it. He'd been beyond stopping them then, his vision swimming and his head literally exploding with pain, Reid's screams bouncing through his head. He'd tried to push himself up, desperate to help his friend, but his body had finally rebelled then, shutting off.

They must have dragged him back to the cell and left, because when he finally managed to blink away the dark spots in front of his eyes, it was only him and Reid, with no one moving around them.

Damnit...how long-?

He shifted, immediately groaning as pain shot through him.

"Morgan?! Morgan, say something- Morgan!" Reid's voice, again, too loud and shrill, rang in his ears.

'God, at least he's okay.' They hadn't knocked him out it seemed...no,... they had to keep him alive, for Gecko.

Morgan's heart seized. Reid...

He tried to answer, but only another groan escaped, more pain making him cringe when he turned his head towards his friend's voice. Blinking, he realized that one of his eyes was swelling shut.

With the other, he was able to make out the shape of Reid next to him -and the room they'd previously been in around them.

For a moment, dejection, fear, and anger overwhelmed him and he cursed, pressing his eyes shut against the reality of what had happened. No- he couldn't have failed, they couldn't still be here, they had to get out-

He forced his eyes back open, tried to push himself up despite his protesting limbs, thoughts already on another escape -

He didn't get far.

Pain shot through his arms and a metallic sound by his ear let him know, even before looking up, that he was handcuffed to the radiator.

No!

He pulled on the cuffs, despite already knowing what he then found -he wasn't getting out of them, wasn't going anywhere. Shouting in frustration, he strained against the handcuffs, striking the radiator in frustration, two, three times...to no avail. All it did was to make him hurt more, and his ears ring with the metallic clangs.

God damnit.

"Stop-"

The suffering in Reid's voice was almost palpable.

Morgan fell back against the radiator in exhaustion. It was no use.

He pressed his eyes shut, forcing himself to take several deep, calming breaths. He couldn't lose it now, he had to think -but for what? There was no escaping now, was there?

He looked over to Reid, remembering how he had picked his handcuffs before. Maybe...

The younger man was sitting about two feet away from him, also propped up against the radiator. Morgan forced himself not to linger on the emotions playing on his friend's face, the tears in his eyes, but to instead assess the damage.

Reid had a split lip and some shadowing on his jaw but he looked nowhere near as bad as Morgan felt. Both wounds were probably from when he'd tried to shield Morgan.

Morgan's heart clenched at the thought, but he shook off the feeling, forcing himself to focus.

His hopes of Reid being able to free him faded fast. One of Reid's hands was bound to the radiator with a zip tie; either there had been no more handcuffs or the men simply hadn't deemed it necessary to find some. Either way, he couldn't reach him.

Still, Morgan's eyes caught on the young man's wrist for a moment too long, his stomach turning at the sight. The tight restraint was cutting into already marred skin, adding red lines to the bloody gash on his palm. Damnit...how long had he been out? How long had Reid been tearing at that restraint before giving in to exhaustion?

He could see the younger man's pallor, the tremors going through him without having to look closer...had he had another panic attack? So soon after the other? He did make himself look closer then, registered how labored Reid's breathing was, how much every breath he drew in and pushed out sounded shallow and forced, like a conscious effort.

Morgan felt his heart sink in silent self-loathing.

He'd had one chance to get them out of here, to save Reid, and he'd gone and messed it up.

And now...

He tired unsuccessfully to push down the cold feeling of dread growing inside of him. Short of a miracle, he would likely die soon. And Reid would-

No- He looked back at Reid, wanting to say something, anything-

But Reid wasn't looking at him anymore, face averted now that he knew Morgan was conscious again and not actively hurting himself.

He sat still, lips pressed together, fingers clenched tightly, coiled to a spring, breathing shakily and consciously...like he was fighting to stay still, like he was doing everything he could to keep from completely losing his calm or breaking down.

The sight made Morgan forget his own struggles. Reid just looked so broken, so damaged...worse even than when he'd first found him in that motel room...like he would come undone at any second, with just the tiniest amount of additional pressure.

What had held him up -hope- it was gone.

No wonder, he thought bitterly. Reid knew as well as he did what was going to happen. No, he knew better. He'd had to watch it happen before.

Morgan could only imagine the terror he had to feel at the prospect of going through that again, of being helpless to stop it, of knowing that afterward, he wouldn't even be allowed to die...that his torment would go on-

There was nothing he could say – not faced with the pain etched deeply into his friend's face, the dried tear tracks on his cheeks. He couldn't lie.

Morgan pressed his eyes shut, biting back an enraged scream. Guilt and sharp regret were filling him again, cutting into him like knives, the disgusting feeling of helplessness weighing him down. How could he have let it come this far? He was an FBI agent...one of the best...and yet-

"I'm sorry," he choked out, hearing his own voice rough, uneven. "God, I- I'm so fucking sorry, Reid. I was supposed to save you...I should- should've come sooner for you, should've never stopped looking-"

He stopped, cut short, when Reid suddenly shook his head sharply, snapping out of his enforced stillness like Morgan had punched him.

"Don't-" There was so much raw pain in his gaze when he looked over at him, pleading, "Please, don't-"

His voice cracked, hitching, "Don't say that. You can't think that, you can't, please, I-"

x

"Please," It took all Reid had in him to take just little enough of his focus off 'not screaming' to beg Morgan to stop.

He was already a hair's width from completely breaking down, could feel himself holding on by a mere thread. After losing all hope and coming to terms with the imminent loss of everything he still held dear, Morgan's guilt ridden words were simply too much to take.

He couldn't listen to them, couldn't bear to think that his friend would not only die because of him, but that he would die feeling guilty in any way about this situation.

"Please, Morgan you can't think that-" he pressed out, willing his eyes open.

God, he couldn't do this, not on top of everything else, couldn't make himself admit-

The truth, which had been eating away at his soul for so long, was burning like poison on his tongue now, and he wanted to swallow it back down, to bury it, deny it all over again, and again.

But he couldn't- couldn't listen to Morgan apologizing for something that was so clearly 'his' fault, couldn't think that the man was spending his last minutes blaming himself for Reid's mistakes- He just couldn't take it, couldn't let that happen. He had to tell him the truth, no matter how humiliating and dreadful it would be for both of them.

"Y- you can't think- it's all my fault, Morgan, it was all me-" he forced it out, word for word, willing his voice to stay steady.

"Reid, it's not your fault," Morgan protested predictably, "He made you think that. You can't let him-"

"But I did! I let him!"

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x

Right, yeah...sorry again. But at least you know that they are getting there... Sigh. Meanwhile, I'm still trying to figure out just how Reid will explain what happened and that he kinda loveshates Seth. But that's for another day^^


	53. Chapter 53

"But I did! I let him!" Reid felt tears burning in his eyes, hot with regret and shame.

He couldn't look at Morgan, shaking as he stared at his knees. How could he say this? How make him understand? How could he do this to him?

But he had to.

"Morgan- I could- could have gotten away, I- when Prentiss and Rossi came, a- and before- I could have gotten away, or, or called...but I didn't. I-" He pressed his free hand to his mouth, only to force himself to pull it away again. "I c-couldn't make myself-"

He shook his head harshly when tears fell down his face. It was all his fault -and Morgan would see that, he'd-

"You could have found me s-sooner but...I didn't try to c- contact- ...if I just had- all of this would've never happened- we w- wouldn't b- be- I did this."

"Reid-"

"No," he cut his friend off. He couldn't keep defending him. "Don't you understand, Morgan?! He wasn't keeping me tied up somewhere, he didn't threaten me- I just- I...I wanted, wanted it to stop, but I didn't do anything, I stayed, and now-"

His voice failed him finally and he just sat there, shaken, unable to look up at Morgan, too much pain and guilt raging inside of him. It was a long time before Morgan said anything then, a torturously long time in which Reid could feel the man's stare on him.

"Reid-" Morgan's voice was so soft, soothing, that Reid wanted to scream at him. "Reid. Listen to yourself...think about what you're saying. You can't do this to yourself. It's not your fault what he did to you-...after what he did...you know that's how people react. Survival instinct kicks in, paralyzes you. It's not something you could have prevented...you're traumatized. After all his crimes, the violence, terrifying you- all he would have had to do was to show you small kindnesses, and in your situation your brain would have focused on that instead of the abuse-"

"N-no," Reid shook his head, struggling to make Morgan understand.

He knew what Stockholm Syndrome was...that wasn't-

Well, it was, but -not all of it. Maybe before the bar...but so much had happened since then...he hadn't been under pressure when he'd fallen in love with Seth...had he?

He thought of the nightmares, the loneliness, the disorientation...Seth setting himself up as the only fix point in his life, his only source of comfort. The thought alone made it hard to breathe...every single memory tainted.

No- no, he'd been through this already...he knew where Seth's blame lay.

But him, he was a trained FBI agent...he should never have been that weak, that easy to manipulate, that easy to fall for-

"I didn't fight," he whispered brokenly, tears still flowing down his cheeks, "Not enough- not after-"

After Elle. Gideon. Hotch.

He'd just forgotten all about them and jumped in bed with their killer. Had taken his comfort instead of facing the painful reality, even after he'd remembered.

"Reid, you fought, I know you did," Morgan said stubbornly, "Hazel told us everything about what they did, how they threatened you, brutalized you- you were smart to play along with him after the bar. He...he would have killed you if you hadn't."

A sob escaped Reid that sounded cruelly like a bitter laugh. Morgan actually sounded like he believed that. No doubt did he have a very clear picture in his head of what had happened, one in which Reid came out the blameless victim every time, one in which Seth was nothing but a monster-

"No- he wouldn't have. Seth...never," breath, "Seth never laid a hand on me after the bar."

He'd done everything else, yes, but never that. Reid laughed again, angrily wiping at his wet cheek with his free hand. "He didn't hurt me, n-not like that. Not then anyway, not until- I- I wasn't scared. For th-three months I was fine, and he w-was- I-"

"What are you talking about Reid?" Morgan's voice finally broke through to him when he faltered again, swept up in his memories. It was gaining an edge, slowly but surely. "Of course you were scared, Reid...I talked to you on the phone, I talked with Hazel. I saw you with him just yesterday...you were terrified. He terrorized you! How else could he have kept you-"

"He didn't!" Reid drew in a deep, stinging breath, struggling more and more. He was just too torn between the reluctance to tell the whole truth, and this insane urge to defend Seth even as the rational part of his brain knew that Morgan had to be right. If he hadn't forgotten, hadn't gone with Seth willingly...there was no way of knowing if he wouldn't have forced him to go-

No! He shook his head again, fighting to regain his focus. This was about his guilt. His.

But how could he explain what had happened, make Morgan understand that he had been terrified of Seth right before and right after a period of time which had been the most blissful in his entire life?

Inhale.

"It all changed after- after the bar...after what happened, it wasn't like before..." he choked out, "I just- I forgot. I don't know how to- I couldn't handle it. Pushed it away. I woke up and I didn't remember any of it...a-and, and Seth was there, and he took care of me. He said he'd help me get better...and I, I went with him. Traveled with him. He didn't make me. A-all that time, when you thought I was dead, I...I was fine. I was h-happy. He wasn't hurting me...or making me stay. Or m-making me do anything. He was all I could remember...all I thought I needed. He protected me, comforted me...he loved me. And I loved...I love him."

He couldn't help but openly sob then, too weak to even stop himself from doing that, "Gods, I know I- I'm so sorry, I never wanted you to- When I finally remembered... I hated him, and I fought but- he was just too- and I was- and I couldn't- so I just stopped, I gave up and let myself-"

He was all out of words then, suddenly all out of air. The room around him felt ten degrees colder suddenly, and smaller, darker, the longer the following silence stretched. He kept his eyes pressed shut, breathing labored, not fighting anymore, just letting the pain and dark win over, swallow him up. Morgan wasn't saying anything anymore, and he still couldn't look, because he knew what he'd see. Morgan had obviously finally, finally understood and...oh god...everything-

He wouldn't have known how long the silence actually lasted. It felt like eons.

When finally Morgan spoke again, the sound of his voice made Reid shudder internally. He felt so cold by then that he almost felt like he was frozen, unable to move, to even cry anymore.

"What...how did you remember?"

It took too long to assemble the words. His mouth was dry, sore.

"I saw him...kill one of Cabot's men. In an alley...and, I remembered then. Everything, E-Elle, Hotch, Gideon...how it was my fault they died, how I never even told their families...and I remembered Seth...I finally understood the nightmares...understood that every time he h- held me when I woke up screaming from night terrors...he knew that he had caused them. That he was a murderer. And I still loved him. I still needed him so much I couldn't breathe without him."

If that truth had destroyed him, how much would it hurt Morgan?

He swallowed, slowly, feeling the dark cold in his chest grow. "...I just couldn't- couldn't take it, but I also couldn't stop. I needed him so much...turning away, it felt like dying. I couldn't function without him. But I couldn't live- not after what I'd done, I knew I couldn't go back...the thought of you finding out the truth...of Jack, Hayley...I- I cut my wrists. I just wanted it to end. But he wouldn't let me...and I tried to kill him. I h-hated him so much, I knew he needed to die. When I couldn't I- I ran, and he found me- and I just couldn't anymore- I was just too weak. I gave up. I let him take over...a-and tried to forget again..."

Morgan was silent again for much too long, letting Reid get swept up in his shame and misery once more, only to rip him out of it when the first words he did speak were hard and unyielding.

"Reid." He flinched, breath flattening out. "Reid. I am not asking you. I am telling you. You need to believe this. Stop thinking- stop telling yourself that I can't know, that I don't have every detail. I have eyes -and I'm telling you. You never had a choice. You have to believe me, Reid- Reid, look at me."

His head wouldn't move, his racing heart would let the words soak in- no, no- He hadn't wanted this, he'd wanted to convince Morgan- what had he done- this was all wrong, it wasn't even supposed to be about him-

"Reid." It was sheer force of habit that made Reid's head snap around when Morgan repeated his name, authority in his voice. The look on his best friend's face almost killed him then and there. Morgan's skin was ashen, his expression so torn and pained -because of him- so tortured-

"Reid." He almost couldn't see through the new tears that rapidly began to fill his eyes. "You didn't have a choice. We profiled Gecko. We both know what happened before the bar- and whatever you think happened after, you never stopped being his hostage. His victim. He isolated you when you were unstable and made you dependent on him. He broke down all of your bases and built himself up as the new one. You had no chance. He lied to you, manipulated you...he still forced you, he only made you feel like he wasn't. Whatever you think you feel towards him, it's not real."

Reid nodded. He knew that, all of it; somewhere deep down he knew it already.

And yet he didn't believe it.

Didn't believe that he couldn't have prevented it if he'd just been stronger. Didn't believe that a feeling as heart-wrenching as this one could not be real, or that it would ever fade.

And what if all of that didn't even matter...what if it would never stop, even if it wasn't real?

Faintly, a dark memory of before flickered through his mind...Seth, mumbling something to himself about a wrong premise leading to a true conclusion...back in that bar...

"Reductio ad absurdum," he whispered, to himself mostly, feeling a smile creep onto his face. Oh, the irony.

"Reid-" Morgan was starting to sound desperate now...so desperate to convince him...like it even mattered.

"You're right," Reid nodded, feeling himself sink into despaired resignation, "But it doesn't matter. I didn't even care anymore...I was beyond that. I don't matter. He can have what's left of me if he still wants it. But...you." He looked at Morgan brokenly, one last tear escaping when he blinked, "How can I not care if you die?"

Morgan's face crunched up at that, still more pain surfacing and for a moment he looked like he would cry, too. Reid watched his large fists clench and unclench in his restraints, unable to reach out.

"Reid...you have to promise me you'll hold on, even if...I want you to tell me that you'll hold on until the team finds you. They will this time. It won't be long."

He said nothing about how he wouldn't be there anymore to see that happening. Couldn't lie, Reid supposed. Not that he would have believed it.

Not that it made a difference like this. He couldn't lie either, couldn't pretend he'd have the strength to move on from this.

"Yeah," he said, the words empty, "Yes, of course."

If he could just stop breathing he would.

He would have to find the second quickest way to die though.

"Reid-" He could tell that Morgan didn't believe him, could see the pain in his friend's eyes, but before he could gather the strength to lie a little more convincingly for his sake, a sound disrupted them.

The door was being opened.

xxx

~I wear this crown of thorns upon my liar's chair. 

Full of broken thoughts I cannot repair. 

Try to kill it all away, but I remember everything.

What have I become, my sweetest friend? 

Everyone I know goes away in the end. 

And you could have it all. My empire of dirt. 

I will let you down. I will make you hurt.

If I could start again, a million miles away, 

I would keep myself. I would find a way.~

xxx

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Alright, finally the end of that conversation for now...phh...that was exhausting. Poor Reid. Action to return in the next chapter...I hope. Please let me me know what you think.

Disclaimer: Lyrics are of course by the late, great Mr. Johnny Cash, 'Hurt'. All I can account for is messing up their order. Do listen to the song though I you have a moment and cry like I did. (lol)


	54. Chapter 54

I redid this and the next chapter. Sorry if you liked that scene in particular, it just wasn't working for me :/ Now this is kinda just the bridge and the next chapter will be really long :S

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"Yes, of course."

It was so obvious that Reid didn't mean what he was saying that Morgan wanted to scream in frustration.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, to push down his own conflicting emotions. He couldn't think about how sick all of this made him, how heartbreaking and horrifying it was. He couldn't help Reid now, not here, not like this...he should have known that.

His friend needed extended therapy, and most of all he needed to be removed from this stressful environment in order to get better. Without that, his frazzled mind would only keep running in circles, stuck on the same destructive, obsessive thoughts, on the same vicious cycle of self-loathing and dependance.

He couldn't help it, even if he tried, Morgan had seen that very clearly just now.

Seth Gecko had obviously stopped at nothing to break Reid down, going further and deeper even than Morgan had thought. As dependent as he had made him physically and mentally, he might as well have gotten the kid hooked on drugs to control him. In a way it was the same, he thought...just worse, because Reid couldn't even clearly see the extent of his illness.

To think that Reid actually thought he was to blame for anything here, that he had given his consent, that he loved him- what Gecko must have done to manage that, Morgan couldn't even bring himself to think about.

'He needs to get out of here', he thought feverishly, forcing himself to focus.

Reid would get help once he got out of here. But for that he needed to keep holding on, he needed to try to be rescued.

But...he looked so hopeless, so resigned. Like he actually meant it that he didn't want to live if Morgan didn't. Or worse, like he would Seth take control once again. No. Never-

"Reid-" he began, trying to think of anything to say that would convince his friend to keep fighting even if he died.

He broke off, head snapping around when suddenly the door was opened.


	55. Chapter 55

I changed the last chapter and this one. Sorry :( I like this better though and hopefully so will you!

xxx

"Reid-" Morgan began, trying to think of anything to say that would convince his friend to keep fighting even if he died.  
He broke off, head snapping around when suddenly the door to their prison was opened.

Morgan felt his breath catch, his heart beginning to race. Next to him, Reid made a distressed sound, inhaling sharply. Fear hit Morgan with a brutal intensity, almost impossible to push down. No-

For a split second, he dared to hope that it was the BAU finally storming in -but of course, it wasn't.

Seth Gecko was standing in the door, framed by Vic and another broad, sinister-looking man. Gecko's eyes were gleaming like the gun at his belt as they swept over the room and landed on him. His face was hard, blank almost, but Morgan could see that he was seething underneath, practically radiating aggression. He looked like he was about two seconds away from bashing someone's head in.

No, not someone's. His.

Morgan grit his teeth, wishing he'd have had another moment to steel himself, so he could even try and be strong and collected. For both of them.  
But time had run out.

He glared up at the criminal as best he could through his swollen lids, squaring himself -ready to find that rage directed at him imminently -but Gecko's attention didn't stay on him for more than two seconds. His eyes snapped to Reid almost immediately, darkening as the took him in. 

Morgan mimicked him, instantly scared for Reid, and what he saw evicerated any thought of staying collected from his mind. The last bit of color had washed out of Reid's cheeks; he seemed frozen, looking like he wasn't even breathing as he stared up at Gecko, eyes full of inconcealable terror. Like it was really him who was about to die.

For a moment, no one moved or spoke as the two men stared at each other. It was impossible to tell what Gecko was thinking; he just stood there as the silence stretched, blinking, once, twice, like he was trying to change the image in front of him somehow. Eventually though, his jaw clenched, and more anger flared up in his eyes.

"You did this?" He didn't turn to look at Vic but it was clear that he was speaking to him. The words sounded like a threat, not a question.  
"Mess up boyfriend number two?" Vic looked at Gecko with almost comically widened eyes, oozing mock dismay, "Seth. Is that what you think of me? That I would bring him here for you and then not leave him to you?“

“Vic,” Gecko growled warningly, making the other man frown slightly for the first time. 

“Take a pill, Seth. Joe already told you that them guys outside messed 'em up like this. I barely touched the little love bugs.“ He winked at Reid, quickly winning his sickening sense of humor back, “Ask Spencer if you don't believe me.” 

Reid didn't reply, didn't move even the fraction of an inch, still staring at Gecko. Vic shrugged, unbothered. “'Guys outside did quite a number on 'em looks like. But there's still enough left for us to have some fun-"

“Get out.“

Vic blinked, surprised, but Gecko just eyed him coldly. "I want you out of here, both of you. This is my business."

"Wha- ey, come on, Seth," Vic pulled a face in mock disappointment. "No one's wantin' to stick around for your eventual tat a tat with goldilocks, believe me. But unless you were planning on making Mark here watch, you'll deal with him first, and I gotta say, I really wanna be there for that.” He smirked at Morgan who felt his stomach turn at the insinuation -no- he hadn't even considered that- His eyes flashed back to Gecko's stoic face in horror. Oh Gods, no- Gecko wouldn't- 

Would. 

Had. Reid had basically confirmed it just minutes ago.

And now, if Gecko thought he needed to stake a claim, send a message- 

Bone deep terror filled him, making him unable to look at Reid.  
Seeing his reaction, Vic's grin widened. He turned back to Gecko, eyebrows raised. “Com'on, pal, I haven't had any fun at all today -let me enjoy the show, eh? I can even give you a hand."

He moved without waiting for Gecko's response, pulling something small and long out of his pocket in a lazy movement. Still distracted, Morgan didn't realize it was a switchblade until he heard Reid gasp and struggle against his restraints, panicking.  
"No! NO!"  
Vic just winked at him, running the open blade over his own chin lazily as he sauntered closer to Morgan still. Morgan stopped breathing, every muscle in his body tensing as he prepared himself, waiting for the criminal to come close enough to land a hopefully bone-shattering kick to his shin. Two more steps, one-  
“Stop! Get away from him! STOP!!-” Reid was practically shrieking now, ripping violently at his restraints, the plastic cutting his wrists open, as he tried to get to Morgan, to stop Vic-

It wasn't until then that Gecko moved. Morgan only saw it out of the corner of his eyes, focused as he was on the knife by then, but when it happened, it was so fast that none of the others saw it coming either.  
With one fluid movement he had crossed the room and pulled a gun, aiming it straight at Vic's head. Vic stopped in mid-motion to look up, eyes widening in surprise, and so did Morgan. Gecko's anger was barely constrained now, and fully directed at Vic, he realized.  
His hands were steady though, both the one with the gun, and the other which Morgan realized was suddenly clasped around Reid's bound hand, pinning it against the radiator to stop him from moving. Reid had stilled, shaking as he stared up at the men; tears were running down his washed-out cheeks but he was completely silent now, seemingly frozen.

Morgan stared between Gecko and Vic and Reid and the gun, heart racing, breath flattened out as his brain fought to catch up with the man's velocity.  
"Listen carefully, dickhead," Gecko hissed threateningly, "You're done. Get the fuck out before I decide I wanna blow your head off as a precourse to his.”  
Vic stared at him for a long moment, testily, then he scoffed, disbelieving. Seth didn't even blink as he laid his finger on the trigger. “Test me,” he said icily, “I fucking dare you, you piece of shit. Come on -you wanna get under my skin? Fine. See if I care who Joe has to get to scrape your brain matter off these walls."  
He looked deadly serious, his expression making the hairs on Morgan's neck rise. For a second, no one moved, both men glaring at each other. It looked like neither one would back off, and for a split second Morgan thought that Gecko might actually shoot – but then, the other man in the room finally got between them.

"Hey!" he shouted angrily, "HEY! You both fucking quit it, alright!? No one's killing anyone in here! We have inspections coming up. Vic, back the fuck off already, goddamnit!"  
He had to physically walk over and grab the man's arm though to get him to move at all. Finally, Vic backed off. 

He spat on the floor, sneering at Seth. “Well, far be it from me to spoil your fun.” He let Eddie pull him back, to the door, but before they left, he stop to look back at Morgan, that sadistic glint still in his eyes, "I'll be outside. You kids don't do anything I wouldn't do. And remember, Sethie, these walls aren't sound-proof."

Morgan felt his stomach turn once again at the insinuation. Gecko merely stood his ground, silently waiting for the men to retreat.

"Twenty minutes, Seth," Eddie said, pointing at his watch as he walked out, "And he's right about the walls."

Then the door fell shut behind them.

xxx

Okay, more soon-ish. Sorry, my internship takes up a lot of my time. But the students are so cute :'D  
Speaking of (not really), check out this awesome poster of Seth. I'm in love. I know you can't post links on here but if you just go on the FB page of From Dusk till Dawn the Series you can see it there. Seriously. DO.  
And please Review. Lemme know if this was confusing. It might be...I'm too tired to go over it again now. Tomorrow, tomorrow...only a day away :)


	56. Chapter 56

~Cut my life into pieces 

This is my last resort 

Suffocation, no breathing 

Don't give a fuck if I cut my arm bleeding 

Would it be wrong, would it be right 

If I took my life tonight?

Do you even care if I die bleeding?~

-Papa Roach, Last Resort

xxx

Seth Gecko fell into motion the second the door was shut, stalking over to it and barring it from the inside. His hand lingered on the heavy wood for a long moment in which Morgan and Reid both stared at his profile breathlessly -then Gecko suddenly lashed out, slamming his fist against the wood so hard that it actually shook.

Morgan jumped, his heart hammering in his chest as he watched the man's jaw work, his anger still practically pouring off of him. He drew in a deep breath, trying to steel himself for what would come next. He couldn't decide whether the situation was better because Gecko had made the others leave...or worse.

Except...

Vic's gleeful taunts rang in his ears.

He hadn't really thought about that dreadful possibility until their abductor had mentioned it, but now that it was in his head...

Tied up as he was, there was nothing he could do to help Reid if Gecko decided to hurt Reid. Absolutely nothing. He'd have to watch, helpless. Morgan's stomach turned at the mere thought, at the idea of having to watch Reid be attacked. Or worse, assaulted. The way he had been.

It was the worst thing he could have imagined. Worse than dying. 'No, gods, no, no he wouldn't do that, he came here to save him- Reid said he didn't hurt him-'

Except, that was a load of crap obviously.

Gecko was a murderous sociopath with a hair trigger temper and there was no reason to give him the benefit of the doubt. If he was mad enough-

Panicked, Morgan's eyes flickered from Gecko to his friend who was sitting so close to him and was yet unreachable.

Reid looked like he was about to pass out, trembling all over and drawing in shallow, erratic breaths as he stared at Gecko's back. He didn't seem nearly over the state of panic Vic had put him in with his would-be-attack.

Morgan stared at him, but it was impossible to tell from Reid's behavior if he thought Gecko might attack him as well. All Reid cared about was Morgan, that was clear as day - Would he even care if Gecko decided to focus on hurting him out of some insane feeling of jealously? No...he wouldn't, would he? Not if he thought it would deflect harm from Morgan.

Morgan ground his teeth, wanting to scream out in misery and despair. He wanted to be sick at the mere thought of that happening. No. He wouldn't let that happen- no matter what he'd have to do or say-

He tensed when Gecko turned around to face them again. The man was still seething, a dark storm brewing in his eyes, knuckles white around the handle of the gun. He didn't look at Morgan this time, immediately focused on Reid as he began stalking back over, and Reid just sat there, shaking-

"Hey!" Morgan snapped without thinking, "HEY!" He jerked forward, and metal clanked against metal.

Gecko stopped, his focus broken momentarily. Morgan, mind racing, struggled to think of the right thing, any thing to say to keep the man from Reid while he was this loaded. Gecko's profile in mind, he knew there was only one way to go.

"Listen to me, man," he pressed out, pushing all the hatred and disgust he felt for the ex con down with sheer force of will, "It's not his fault. You know it can't be, he wasn't trying to leave -not until I found you. Everything was fine until then." He could feel Reid's head snap around but didn't take his eyes off Gecko, pressing the lies out through gritted teeth, rushed, breathless. "It can all go back to the way it was before. I know that's all you want. Reid loves you -he told me that. He insists you love him. And- and even if I didn't want to believe it, you're here to save him now, you're the only one who can, and he needs to get out of here before those psychos out there do more than just beat and cut him up!" He brought attention to Reid being hurt already, then rushed on, "So please- I'm dead anyway, I get that. Kill me, let them do it – but don't hurt him any more, don't make him watch- he'll break, you have to see that-!"

"Stop-"

He winced at Reid's horrified protest that inevitably came the second the younger man got over the shock of what his friend was doing, but kept rushing on, afraid to lose Gecko's ear.

He was going to die anyway, that was becoming more and more obvious. Even if he got past Gecko, there was just a line of more psychos waiting outside that door.

But Reid, Reid could be saved -if Gecko saved him.

As horrible as it was, it was his only play now.

"Just- get him out of here," he prayed that Gecko would take the bait, that his profile was right. "You're in control- you don't got to prove anything. I'll still be dead-"

"Morgan, stop it-" Reid gasped, and the sheer amount of pain in his voice made everything inside him seize up. Morgan gritted his teeth and ignored his cries, the sound of him straining against his bonds uselessly, while he clasped at the edges of his control, breathless, heart racing. 'Please, please-' It had to work-

"Stop it, stop-" Reid's voice was cracking over his desperate pleas, his momentary stillness forgotten in the face of Morgan's upsetting actions. His breaths began to falter once more and Gecko's face twisted, nostrils flaring with anger as he pointed at Morgan warningly with the finger that was still lying on the trigger, bristling. "You, shut the-"

"NO!"

His sudden motion made Reid jerk forward and struggle even harder. There was blood running down his arm but Reid didn't even seem to notice as he kept pulling, staring at Gecko and the gun in horror. "Don't-!"

Gecko was across the room and right in front of Reid, descending on him, before Morgan's brain had remotely caught up. Milliseconds too late, he jerked forward, all pretend-calm instantly lost. "Get away from him-!"

"Stop it, god damnit!" Gecko barked, his hand shooting towards Reid, and Morgan's heart stopped –

And then, nothing happened.

It took Morgan's frenzied brain eons to register Gecko's fingers wrapped around Reid's bound hand again, firm but still, to process the distinct sound of a gun's safety being put back on for what it was. Even then he kept staring wide-eyed, pulse rushing through his ears, as he waited for Gecko to lash out, for his friend to scream, to double over in pain-

But Reid didn't even flinch, acting like he didn't notice Gecko's grip or his sudden dangerous closeness, actually grasping for the criminal's arm as he kept on rambling.

"Seth, please-" His voice sounded like crushed glass, distorted by utter dismay and fear. "Please, he can't- I'm sorry...I'm sorry-" Tears slid down his cheeks as he stumbled over the words, "Please, I didn't mean- you'll never see him again! I'll try harder this time, I promise- I promise I'll be happy. I know I can, just- He's my best friend! M-my brother, my R-Richie, I can't- I'll die- Seth, please..."

His frantic, raspy whispers soon choked off by sobs, Reid curled into himself around Gecko's arm like he was in physical pain, finally completely breaking down. Only still scared for him, pleading for him, not even paying attention to the gun-

It was killing Morgan to watch and he flinched, stomach dropping, when Gecko let go of Reid's arm, grabbing hold of his face instead. "Spencer," he spoke over the young man's faded, disjointed pleading, first low, then louder, "Spencer, stop. Look at me. Listen- listen."

He pushed Reid's chin up, forcing the agent had to look at him. Reid blinked through his tears, shaking in the man's grip. He was clearly struggling to focus, or maybe he was just too afraid to hear what Gecko would tell him; he kept trying to shake his head but Gecko tightened his grip, holding him still. "Stop it. Look -look at me."

He raised his gun hand until it was level with their heads -Morgan stopped breathing- only to discard it in a deliberate movement, tucking it into the back of his pants. His free hand he also brought to Reid's face, cupping both cheeks with long fingers.

"Breathe," his thumbs brushed over wet cheeks and Morgan stared without blinking, unable to believe what he was seeing. Gecko had been so furious, so frightening, and yet suddenly...it was like...

"Calm down, it's alright. Stop crying." Even his voice had changed, still stern and boding no argument, but no longer cold. "Spencer, I need you to calm down so you can listen to me."

Morgan stared at the man incredulously, afraid to even hope that he was seeing right. All that had dominated Gecko's appearance until then seemed like a mere shadow of itself suddenly – and his hands...the way he was touching Reid seemed-

'He loves me. He's not going to hurt me.' Reid's words from before echoed through his head.

He hadn't believed them for a second then, but...he drew in a deep, uneven breath, praying once more, 'Oh please, please, let me have been wrong. I was wrong. He was only mad at Vic and the others, Reid is alright-'

He looked at Reid, Reid who was still shaking like a leaf, obviously fighting to control himself but looking no less terrified as he kept dragging sharp, flat breaths into his lungs like he was on the verge of hyperventilation. Clearly, Gecko telling him that it was 'alright' didn't have much of a calming effect on him. In fact, it seemed to scare him even more.

"Please, don't do this-" he whispered, so distraught that Gecko seemed to actually wince. The criminal looked down at Reid with a somber, distant look, still stroking his cheek in a disturbing parody of comfort.

"I won't," he eventually said quietly, causing two separate hearts to skip a beat.

x

x

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I literally wrote this chapter 10 times over. All of it. Not so the effort's really noticeable of course. I don't know, I was sick, and uninspired, and demotivated I spose. Sorry for the wait to those few who still follow. I don't mean to leave you hanging, I just think my motivation to write is at an all time low. Hopefully I will get the next chapter out sometime before june.


	57. Chapter 57

“Please, please, don't do this-” Reid heard himself frantically whispering the same words over and over, unable to stop himself; they were filling up his mind, violently thrown about in the storm of nausea and adrenaline that raged inside of him.

He didn't know why he was pleading with Seth; it wasn’t like that had ever gotten him anywhere Seth didn’t initially want to go.   
But there was nothing else he could do, short of ripping off his own arm, that had become terrifyingly clear when Vic had almost attacked Morgan with his knife. Coming face to face with his utter helplessness had brutally ripped away any delusions and hopes he might have still had, a blow by reality harsh enough that he couldn't pull himself up again, couldn’t stop falling apart more and more.   
Vic was gone now, but not the threat of Morgan dying. Those criminals were right outside and Seth was still there holding that gun, and Morgan was provoking him, painting all those horrid scenarios in front of him, literally trying to get himself killed-

“NO- don't listen to him- you can't-!” 

He had no idea what he was saying anymore, the pleas just tumbling out before he could think about them, desperate to keep Seth in front of him, focused on him instead of Morgan.   
It was stupid. Stupid telling Seth what he couldn’t do. Stupid to assume there was something he wouldn’t do, especially if he was feeling cornered.

Seth had left Morgan alive before, yes, had left them both with the opportunity to get away, and Reid had since tried hard to convince himself that that should reassure him, that it had been a sign of a conscience, of remorse...an actual attempt not to hurt him more.   
But even if it had been that: the situation was a different one now. It was Cabot calling the shots here, and Cabot would never let Morgan go free. Depending on how angry he was, Seth might have the 'mercy' to kill Morgan quickly and not let Reid see it -but other than that, he wouldn’t risk anything, least of all both of their lives, to save an FBI agent whose death would make going back to Mexico after this heist so much easier.   
Those were facts. Things he knew.   
And yet, Reid kept stumbling over rushed, desperate pleas, his body refusing to catch onto the horrid reality replaying over and over in his brain.

Seth was talking, telling him to listen, but he couldn’t, couldn’t even look, terrified of finding out just what the man would do.   
Faintly, he could hear Morgan still shouting, and his heart stopped when Seth frowned and lifted the gun yet again. 'I'll blow off your head as a precursor to his.' Those words to Vic, said just minutes ago....

Reid cringed, sobbing, “Nonono-”

He could feel his brain reeling, threatening to shut down again, to dissociate. But it didn't, couldn’t, not this time, ripped back from the edge of the abyss every time it came close by Morgan's presence. Reid couldn’t stop, couldn’t have closed off his mind had he wanted to, his fear for his friend keeping him trapped in his hellish reality. It would keep him lucid until Morgan was killed-  
He'd have to live through that, maybe hear it, see it-  
Bars of steel seemed to be tightening around his ribcage with every breath until his sight began to swim and finally darken. 

“Spencer, breathe, god damnit! I said I won't.” Faintly, he could feel Seth's hands on him tighten, slipping against blood from cuts that barely even registered at all. “I won't kill him.”

It took an eternity for the words to even register at all.

When their meaning finally began to filter in, he was sure he'd misheard over his ragged breathing. Seth spoke again, more insistent, and with all the strength he had left, Reid forced himself to focus, to blink past the spots dancing in front of his eyes.   
Seth was gazing down at him intensely, repeating the words with an expression that looked nothing but earnest. “I'm not. I'm not.” 

It was almost impossible to crush the involuntary onslaught of relief those simple words caused inside of him. Spencer stared, breathless, stupefied, as Seth put his gun away, bringing up his empty hand to rest it gently against his wet cheek. The touch was warm on his skin, radiating the familiar promise of soothe and safety like a drug.

“That's right, breathe...” Seth sighed, brows furrowing as he held his gaze, his entire demeanor a complete 180 from how he had acted around Vic and Morgan just then. As though this wasn't happening, as though it was still just the two of them with no imminent murder standing between them. “It's gonna be fine, you hear me?... I know that I fucked up. I lost it back at the motel room...I created this mess. But I'll fix it. I'll get you out of here. It's all going to be alright.” 

Reassurances. Promises. 

Lies. 

It sounded, felt so real that when finally realization set in, it was like a hand crushing his windpipe.  
Reid felt his face crunch up as something deep in his chest twisted painfully and he pressed his eyes shut, shaking his head violently. He would have pressed his hands to his ears if he could have. 

No. Not again. This was Seth stabbing a knife into a stranger's heart and then telling him it would be okay all over again. He was just lying, trying to placate him. Trying to keep the pieces together thinking he'd be able to mend them eventually.   
Telling him that he'd be fine -not Morgan. Never for one second.

He'd spend every breath of the rest of his life in hell. With Seth.

Shaking, he let himself sag forward, burying his face in Seth's neck, sobbing. He wanted to look at Morgan, to beg him for forgiveness, but he couldn't, couldn't move away. Seth's arms came up instantly to stabilize him, warm around his shoulders. “Spencer-”

“I can't,” he whispered, toneless, wrapping his arms around Seth's waist. “I just- can't- I'm sorry-”

He grabbed the gun in Seth's belt, too fast for the older man to even register what he was doing until he had already brought the weapon up, pressing it to his temple. 

“I'm so sorry.” 

Except, this time it was easy pulling the trigger.


	58. Chapter 58

xxx

It all happened much too fast.

One second, Morgan had been sure Reid had completely given up as he watched his friend sag against Gecko's chest, crying brokenly and apologizing. But then, so fast he almost missed it, Reid had suddenly grabbed the man's gun, pushing back and pressing it to his temple.

Everything seemed to freeze for one endless nightmarish second in which all he could take in was the pain in Reid's eyes and the frightening stillness of his hand as he pulled the trigger-

Morgan couldn't tell if it was him that screamed or Gecko.

Both of them jerked forward at the same time, instinct taking over, but while Morgan merely tore at his restraints uselessly, Gecko -in a movement so fast it seemed surreal given the circumstance- grabbed hold of Reid's hand, roughly shoving it upwards.

It wasn't a second too early.

The shot rang out, so loud in the confined space that it left Morgan shell-shocked, and the bullet hit the wall above their heads.

Heart racing, Morgan stared at Gecko's expression of utter shock, watched it turn from so frightened that Morgan thought he was looking into a mirror, to something worse, something unhinged.

Morgan saw it coming immediately and yet he winced when, with a sound that was all but animalistic, Gecko pushed Reid back, pinning both his shoulder and his hand to the wall, all softness gone as he wrestled the gun from the younger man's hand. Reid fought him, thrashing under him, but Gecko wasn't holding back anymore and he lost his grip on the weapon almost immediately.

Gecko tore the gun away from him, barely taking the time to lock it before throwing it towards the far wall and out of everybody's reach. Then he turned back towards Reid, eyes blazing.

Morgan sat frozen, so afraid already that he could hardly react to Gecko's aggressiveness directed at Reid – his mind kept flashing back to that horrible image of Reid as he pulled the trigger.

God, how could he have-?

It was an automatic question, however stupid he knew it to be. In truth, he didn't need to look at Reid's face, the misery and despair reflected in his hazy eyes, to know exactly how.

He'd seen the moment, however tiny it had been, when Reid had let himself hope that he'd survive after all. Despite knowing it was impossible, despite knowing Gecko had to be lying for his own gain- he'd wanted to believe so badly.

And then, he'd caught himself. Had remembered what he already knew to be true.

Morgan shouldn't have been surprised considering everything Reid had told him so far -should have known, and yet, to hear about a suicide attempt and to see Reid actually try to shoot himself were two completely different things. He'd been so fast, so decisive, after seeming so lost and weak...

Gecko hadn't expected it either, clearly, given his reaction now. He was staring down at Reid as though he couldn't believe what had just happened, shock and fear being more and more replaced by what looked exactly like helpless rage.

It couldn't have lasted more than two seconds, that moment of stillness, then Gecko shouted, furious, pained, his free hand balling to a fist and slamming into the wall next to Reid's head. Morgan jumped, once more expecting Reid to cry out, but Gecko only sank forward, his body heaving as he pinned Reid while pressing his own forehead against the wall between his fist and Reid's neck, drawing in sharp, flat breaths.

Morgan stared at them breathlessly, waiting for Gecko to completely snap and lose it. His behavior had been so all over the place in the past minutes that he felt like he had no idea anymore what the man really was feeling; how much of a threat he was seemed to vary from moment to moment...all he could see was that any control he'd had was rapidly dwindling now.

Reid was motionless in Gecko's tight grip, silently crying, his face a twisted grimace. He didn't try to struggle anymore, like he had realized that his one opportunity had passed and that he wasn't getting another one soon. Or like he knew what the fallout of his failed attempt would be.

When Gecko finally pulled back, his teeth were clenched, knuckles white around Reid's arm, and for a moment Morgan was sure he'd lost his battle for control, that he was about to finally do much more damage than to just push the him into the wall -

It was a sudden pounding on the door that made all of them jump, tearing Gecko out of whatever he had been thinking of doing.

"Seth! SETH! What the fuck is going on in there! I said don't kill him till tonight, and not in that fucking room! SETH-"

"GET THE FUCK OFF MY CASE, EDDIE! STAY OUT!" Gecko pushed back, his head snapping around as he yelled through the door, all of his barely contained aggression unloading itself at once.

The look on his face was so wild then that Morgan grew cold with fear when the criminal turned back towards Reid. Breathing raggedly, he stared down at the young agent for another heart-stopping moment before suddenly pushing to his feet and rushing towards the door, just before Eddie knocked on it again.

He unlocked it and ripped it open, storming outside without a glance back. Morgan stared at the closed door for a long moment, apprehensive, confused.

When Gecko didn't come back though, he eventually turned his head towards Reid, finding his friend sagged against the wall, eyes closed and still soundlessly crying. He looked completely drained, face ashen, like he had put the last of his energy into that failed attempt...

Morgan opened his mouth to say something to him...but he knew right then that there wasn't anything. What was he supposed to say after what had happened?

They sat for what must have been nearly five minutes until the door was pushed back open and Gecko stalked back into the room, a small bag in his right hand. Morgan stared at it apprehensively, eyes flickering up to the man's face.

It was a small relief to see that he seemed to have gained control of his explosive anger somewhat; at least, he no longer looked like he was going to punch the wall, or one of them -only like he wanted to. His face was still tight, his eyes blazing with suppressed emotion.

Had he actually gone outside to be able to calm down, Morgan wondered, baffled as he watched the man take a deep breath before walking back over to Reid and kneeling down in front of him much like he had before. Reid didn't look up, didn't even acknowledge the man, like he couldn't sense his volatile temper...or like he simply didn't care.

Probably the latter, Morgan thought, looking on with a sinking feeling as Reid ignored Gecko calling out his name. Gecko's face twitched, hardening, and without another word he gripped Reid's chin, his previous gentleness gone as he pushed his head back and into the wall, getting into his face.

"Open your eyes," he bit out through gritted teeth, and it was clear that this time he wasn't asking.

Reid clamped his eyes shut as tightly as his trembling lips, refusing to react.

"Spencer, look at me or I swear to God I will give this all up and drag you out of here right now."

It wasn't a threat to him, still not that, but it held enough potential of a threat against Morgan that Reid pried his eyes open, glaring at Seth with a stomach-turning mixture of despair and fear.

'You'll do that anyway,' his eyes said, somehow managing to convey disgust on top of distress. He was so clearly beyond listening, or caring that it was frightening.

In that moment, Morgan felt incredibly stupid for having thought the team would have enough time to rescue his friend after his death. They wouldn't, would they...not with Reid like this...

Gecko clearly saw that, too. That storm of fear and fury was still vivid in his dark eyes as they bored into Reid's.

"Is this what you want?" he growled, jaw clenched, "To say fuck all and flush both your lives down the drain? I told you I'd get him out alive! I'm telling you there's a chance to save him and this is how you-"

"Stop. Lying." Reid cried, trying to pull away, "Just-stop- he won't get out- all you want is to keep me alive-"

He winced, breaking off when Gecko gripped his chin more tightly, pushing his face up further as he leaned in, forcing eye contact.

"Do you think I'm brain dead?! Do you think I can't work out how much use it would be trying to get you out of here without him?! It's plenty obvious he's the only reason you're not fucking comatose right now -and you think I'll kill him?" His voice was somewhere between a yell and a hiss, his grip certainly near painful. He sounded nothing but menacing...his words though...his eyes... "You think I wanna drag you back to Mexico and count down the minutes until you're lucid enough to slit your fucking wrists again?! Is that what you got from all that time-"

He broke off suddenly, voice cracking oddly, and Morgan could have sworn the sound made Reid wince where nothing else had.

"That can't really be what you think, Spencer. I fucked up, I get that...you feel like you can't trust me anymore. But this isn't about trusting my word. I left, Spencer. I let you go, both of you- so you could go home and get better, because I need you to be okay more than I need you to stay with me. You think I want him dead?" He jabbed a finger in Morgan's direction without looking. "I don't give a flying fuck about him. He can live forever if it means that you won't blow your fucking brains out! I don't care about him, or your buddies with the badges I let walk right out of that motel, or anything except you."

He broke off again, voice suddenly hoarse and Morgan watched his brows furrow, expressing true regret, true pain, fingers twitching around Reid's face.

Reid stared up at him, features twisting at those last words, or maybe at Gecko's expression, his resistance visibly cracking. His face scrunched up, mirroring Gecko's mimics perfectly as a lonesome tear slid down his face. It was so obvious that Reid was fighting not to listen, not to believe, but that he was losing that battle. And how could he not? If Gecko had always been this convincing, Morgan had no trouble imagining how he'd managed to mess up Reid's perception of him so completely.

Still, Reid shook his head weakly, fighting. "Stop," he plead, "They won't let him...you wouldn't risk it-"

"Yes, I would! I am. I'm getting you both out of here alive," Gecko insisted hotly, nerves visibly beginning to fray once more, "You'll go home and they'll fix you. He'll fix what I can't. For that and only that, I'm gonna get him out. Because of you. He's not gonna die. Are you listening to me, Spencer? Look at me. What's going to happen?"

Reid pressed his lips together tightly; he looked away, breaking eye contact, refusing to acknowledge Gecko.

The man waited for another drawn-out moment, until it became obvious that his reassurances weren't going anywhere. Reid was done believing.

For a moment then, there was so much pain and remorse visibly displayed on Gecko's features that Morgan blinked in bafflement - but then, as quickly as it had broken through, Gecko pushed it back down, and his face hardened before Morgan's eyes until there was virtually no trace of vulnerability left in it and he looked like the man in the BAU's mugshot again.

"Fine. Let me tell you then." Gecko's voice changed and Morgan knew he was talking to him too now. "This is happening whether you want it to or not. And since we've seen that neither of you will make it one step out of this room by yourselves, from here on out there's only one song we'll be singing and it's called My Way. You are both done making decisions. There will be no more pointless escape attempts, no more attempts at self-sacrifice. Those people out there would like nothing better than to kill you both -they won't be looking long for an excuse to do it. So running, or fighting, or blowing this plan by saying the wrong thing -those things will all get you killed. Is that obvious?"

He turned to look at Morgan, who, surprised, nodded. Then he turned back to Reid, jaw clenching when he received no answer. Eyes flashing, he leaned in, "You may think it can't get worse but you're wrong. Your friend isn't going anywhere if you so much as think about getting yourself hurt again. You die and I won't care what they do to him, you got that? So if you don't want Vic to gut him, you'll do what I say, and only that. See, no trust nessecary. He has exactly zero chances without me. Do you understand that? Answer me."

It worked, cruel as it was. Reid swallowed hard, visibly biting back reason along with his tears as he forced out an answer. "Yes."

"Good. So that means we'll give this a shot then?"

A nod.

Seth acknowledged it, stony-faced.

"What about you, muscle man?"

He looked over at Morgan and not Reid this time, like he was daring the agent to finally speak up and contradict him. Morgan shook his head yes without having to think much. Of course, he still didn't believe a word that man was saying, or that he would actually let him go. This display alone showed the man's true colors, his callousness.

But what he did believe was that the criminal wanted Reid to live. It was clear he was doing this to convince him to stay alive, nothing more...so he'd live.

Morgan wanted nothing else.

And even though it still didn't look like Reid believed anything Gecko had said - he would definietly comply now, reminded of the gruesome alternatives. It was terrible, but Morgan couldn't say anything agaisnt it. What other options were there to keep Reid alive, given his state?

Gecko nodded, satisfied. His shoulders seemed to sag minimally before he straightened up more. "That's what I thought. Right then...here's our plan. Agent Wonder is scheduled to bite it at sundown. That's in a little less than 2 hours. I told them I would do it -so I'll drive him out into the desert, let him go, and tell Cabot I shot him."

His face darkened at Reid's sharp intake of breath.

"We'll call you," he went on anyway, "just before I let him go, same way I did with Hazel. He'll scram, I'll come back, do the job, and then I'll get you out of here. Simple as Sesame street."

Reid didn't reply. He didn't protest again, probably too scared to by now, but his eyes still made it painfully clear how he was feeling. Morgan watched him worriedly...would Reid really do to what he'd just agreed? Or would he snap again? How was he supposed to get through them taking Morgan away...?

He wouldn't...Gods...

Immediately feeling sick again, Morgan began cramming his brain for anything he could do, or say...anything to make Reid comply with Gecko one more time.

Gecko had to see it too with how intensely he was watching Reid. Didn't he?

Perplexed, Morgan watched as Gecko finally let go of Reid's face and bent down, beginning to go through the bag next to his leg, almost casual, like he hadn't just given the most disturbing speech ever.

Both Morgan and Reid stared at the bag apprehensively despite everything, until Gecko pulled out nothing but two bottles of water and a wet towel. He unscrewed one bottle and held it up for Reid to take. "Drink something, both of you. You need to stay hydrated."

Morgan almost laughed involuntarily, certain that he wouldn't live long enough to become thirsty and that Gecko knew that, too. Just humoring Reid still.

Except, Reid didn't even look at the bottle before shaking his head, voice laced with panic. "No."

He said it with such force, like Gecko hadn't offered him a simple drink but-

It occurred to him belatedly what Reid was likely thinking, and then he felt stupid for not even having thought of it.

Gecko only sighed, screwing the bottle shut and setting it on the floor again.

"Nothing you'd put past me, huh? Spose I deserve that."

He reached out to touch Reid's face, suddenly gentle again, back to soothing. Like he'd forgotten about his most recent frightening persona already...or like he was discarding it, finding it useless now.

"I'm not gonna hurt him, Spencer." He looked nothing but authentic. "No sooner than I would hurt you. This would be so much easier if you could just believe that."

He moved his hand to cradle the base of Reid's neck, and Reid shivered at the touch, blinking rapidly but holding still as the criminals thumb brushed over the side of his neck.

He didn't see Gecko pick up the towel from the floor, unprepared when it was suddenly pressed to his face.

Morgan yelled out, stomach plummeting when he saw Reid's eyes go wide with understanding and fear, saw him thrashing in Gecko's inescapable grip, clawing and kicking, struggling not to breathe in.

"Shh," Geckos voice was low and disturbingly calm, a complete contrast to his ruthless action. He moved closer, pulling Reid against his chest while still keeping the rag in place.

Morgan watched in horror as he moved one arm to embrace the other agent, holding him still with frightening ease while talking soothingly into his ear.

"It's gonna be alright. It's alright. Go to sleep."

He held on tight until Reid inevitably ran out of air, forced to breathe in and succumb to the chemicals in the fabric. He struggled weakly for another moment or so before his eyes rolled back in his head and he sank into Gecko's arms, unconscious.

Gecko held him like that for another few moments, making sure he was truly out, then he let the rag fall down by his side. Shifting Reid against his body, he finally turned around, looking up at Morgan, any softness bleeding from his face to be replaced by grim determination.

xx

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Aaaand close on Seth being all over the place...guess I'll have to do a chapter from his POV soon but I don't wanna spoil too much about his true thoughts and motivations yet if you haven't already figured it out.

So, whatcha think? Is Seth lying? Is Morgan gonna make it? Who knows? :P

Please Review! Thanks 3


	59. Chapter 59

"What was that?" Morgan stared at Reid's slack form fearfully. "What did you do?!"

"What I had to. He's fine." Seth Gecko merely shot him a fleeting look before he pulled up the leg of his pants and pulled out a switchblade.

Morgan's stomach dropped when he flicked it open and the wickedly-sharp edge glinted in the light. He barely had time to react in any way though because Gecko was already cutting through the plastic around Reid's wrist, freeing him from the radiator. Reid remained unconscious, falling against him, boneless, and Gecko held him upright with one hand while using the other to shrug off his suit jacket.

"Don't suppose I need to bother offering you a drink now," he said without looking up, clearly not troubled much by the notion.

Morgan stared at him, perplexity winning out over his anxiety for a moment. Gecko had looked so cold and dangerous just seconds ago, but now he was focused on arranging the jacket on the floor, using it as a makeshift pillow to rest Reid's head on. The action was once again so at odds with his previous, ruthless behavior, that Morgan was left utterly confused about what to feel.

He knew he should be no less scared for Reid... Gecko had after all just forcefully drugged him with God knew what substance. Even if Reid seemed to be breathing calmly now, apparently unharmed...even if-

He shook his head, mortified to even entertain the thought that Reid being unconscious was actually better, that he had been far too stressed-out, and too far beyond caring to be a part of any possible plans to help him...

He focused on the clearly frightening notion that Gecko had done this without even hesitating the moment he'd realized that Reid couldn't be trusted to cooperate. It brought to mind a darkness that he shuddered to think about.

"How many times have you done this to him?" he ground out, staring at Gecko with a mixture of disgust and apprehension.

Gecko still didn't look at him. His fingers stayed pressed into Reid's pulse point for another few seconds before they started to move over the most obvious signs of abuse visible on the pale skin.

"Never, not that you'd believe that." Gecko leaned down to inspect one of the bandages around Reid's wrists to see if the cuts underneath had reopened. "Easy way just wasn't an option, I shouldn't even have tried. Shoulda known that was out the window after all the shit that's gone down."

His voice was too controlled, his motions too routine, like he'd gone through this kind of thing dozens of times before. It was disturbing, that cool determination, as frightening as the man's ruthlessness and his anger.

Nothing though was as unsettling and sickening to Morgan as the constant shift in the man's behavior. He'd been been utterly frightening when first entering the room, only to completely change once the other criminals were gone, as though it had all been an act...only to nearly lose control over his aggression after Reid's failed suicide attempt, only to then somehow go back to cold and domineering, and now...now...

Morgan stared in vague horror at the way the criminal was handling Reid now, how careful he was being touching him, how worried he seemed...it looked nothing but real. Just like all the other expressions had. It was frightening. He had no idea which face was real, he only knew that they couldn't all be unless Gecko was gravely mentally unstable.

But that had been his brother...had they really mis-profiled the man that much? Or, and this seemed far more likely if just as frightening, was Seth Gecko simply even more of a highly skilled psychopath than they'd thought?

He just wasn't able to tell anymore. Gecko's speech, and expression had been so authentic before, just like the way he was looking at Reid now, how he was touching him. It was impossible to tell whether the man was doing this because some part of him actually thought he cared deeply for Reid or if it was simply an act to gain control, power.

Impossible. It looked so, so real.

He understood then why Reid had been so very confused and conflicted when talking about his time with the man and the way he'd treated him. Anyone would have been messed up by that, and Reid had been so weakened already, completely without realistic comparisons...no, no wonder at all.

It must have been so, so easy for Gecko to make believe he actually cared.

Morgan felt rage boiling up inside him again and he pressed his lips together tightly, afraid he might slip and say something that would anger the criminal again. He couldn't. As horrible as it was, Reid had survived it this long, and Gecko clearly wasn't willing to let that change. Only a little longer...

"Who did this?"

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the question, and blinked to find that Gecko had gone on to clean the blood off of Reid's wrists with yet another towel from the bag. He was currently holding up the hand with the cut in the palm for Morgan to see, eye twitching slightly.

"I don't know," Morgan forced himself to answer plainly biting down what he really wanted to say, "Probably your buddy with the straight razor. Between him and the other two, I've lost sight of how many times he's been hurt."

Gecko's expression seemed to darken, and Morgan didn't know whether it was because of the men or his seething answer until the criminal turned away again, ignoring him. His black eyes lingered on the fingerprints on Reid's arm and neck, the bruised lips and eye, the ruined wrists, and his jaw tightened visibly.

"I'm going to leave him here for now," he finally said, "I don't trust any of these scumbags to guard him and I can't stay -he'll be out for at least two hours. I'll be back before then, but I won't be far. Yell if Vic or anyone else comes back in here."

He didn't add anything else for an explanation, obviously not caring much about Morgan's input, or maybe convinced he'd be obeyed. With one last fleeting touch to Reid's brow he pushed to his feet, straightening up.

Morgan watched him tensely, breath stopping momentarily when the man walked closer. Gecko, however, merely opened the second water bottle and pushed it into his hand.

"It's just water," he shrugged, "Drink it or don't. I don't care. I already know you'll walk out of here without a fuss come sundown. You'll do what you have to to keep him safe. So will I. That's all I care about."

With that he turned around and walked towards the door, unbarring it without another word.

"What are you gonna tell him?" Morgan called after him. Gecko turned around, one eyebrow raised slightly in question.

"He'll wake up and I'll be gone. You might think it's better on him now, but what about then? You can't keep him sedated forever...how are you going to make sure he doesn't...do this again?"

It was probably unwise to even question, given the man's earlier display of power, but he just had to know. Know that Reid would be okay after he died. How would Gecko convince him of anything with the way things had worked out just before...?

"He'll be fine," Gecko merely said evenly, "One way or another."

He didn't elaborate on that, leaving Morgan to draw his own conclusions. However, before he stepped through the door, he paused one more time. "Also, I'm not going to tell him I let you go."

Morgan blinked, "What?"

He had to...what else-?

"You are."

He stared at Gecko, dumbfounded, until the meaning of the statement sank in like icy fog. He clenched his fingers around the water bottle, using every last scrap of his self-control to not answer.

"Exactly," Gecko nodded, unimpressed by his reaction, "Better brush up on your acting skills, Agent Morgan, you'll need them. See you in two hours."

And with that, he was gone.

xxx

~Blanket of silence  
Makes me want to sink my teeth in deep  
Burn all the evidence  
Of fabricated disbelief

Pull back the curtains  
Took a look into your eyes  
My tongue has now become  
A platform for your lies

You got me where you want me  
And I can't turn away  
Chained down  
Like a sitting duck just waiting for the fall  
Yeah, you got my back against the wall~

xxx

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Song is by Cage the Elephant (Back against the wall). It actually fits Reid, too, but I forgot to put it in last time.

So, yeah, hope you liked it! Morgan's still in trouble, eh? Let's see how I feel about keeping him alive^^

Anway, thanks for the lovely feedback, please do keep it up, and I will be motivated to write faster, promise :-*


	60. Chapter 60

Seth pulled the door firmly shut behind him.

Then, he did the same with another door, inside of him, shutting in every single emotion he was feeling as tightly as he could.

If he could have, he would have thrown away the key to that door until he could afford to find it again...which wasn't going to be any time soon.

But of course, there was no key, no lock - and he had to mentally push against the door at full strength just to keep it from bursting open again. It was overwhelming, the urge to scream, to rage, to shake, to cry, to run back into the room and hug Spencer close and shield him, to drag him out of here right now, to lift his gun and simply shoot every person in their way until he ran out of bullets...

The only reason he managed to not do any of it was because he knew that if he gave in to any of those urges for even a second, Spencer would die.

They wouldn't get out.

Not unless he played it smart, and played by Joe's rules for now. He needed to stay in control of himself so he could control the situation, so that he would be able to get Spencer out of here alive.

Spencer would be no help in this, that much had become terrifyingly obvious just now, and he'd never even considered banking on the agent -which meant he only had himself to count on.

Seth forced himself to take a deep breath for just one second, to bundle and redirect his energy. His control was hanging by a thread - he'd nearly lost it completely after Spencer had nearly shot himself, that terrible second burned into his soul-

Focus. He needed to focus.

He pushed the memory down violently, shut it all out as best as he could. He couldn't. Not now.

What remained of his emotions was a cold, seething anger, and he used that to propel him forward.

He was the Seth Gecko. No one would stop him.

He'd do what he had to, nothing more, nothing less.

Stone-faced, he finally pushed away from the wall and began walking down the long hallway.

Behind him, Eddie Cabot, surprised by his sudden movement, did his best to keep up despite his masses. Luckily, Vic was no where in sight now. Seth wasn't sure he could have taken another one of his taunts and still kept it together.

"So everything work out then?" Eddie asked, apparently going for good-spirited now. Their brief 'talk' after he had yelled at Seth through the door had obviously driven home the point that antagonizing Seth further would be very unwise. He was more cautious now.

No less aggravating however.

"Yeah," Seth bit out, "I've got Romeo and Juliet in there competing over who can off himself first, and on top of that I'm stuck with Vic-fucking-Vega and you lot pissing on my leg. Apart from that everything's hunky dory."

It was the best he could do to keep his temper in check. Not that anyone was expecting anything else from him.

They rounded the corner and hurried past Joe's office, towards the exit.

"Vic's not gonna get into your business anymore," Eddie told him like he actually believed it, "We told him to steer clear off the kid-"

"Oh, well in that case," Seth seethed, throwing his arms up, "I'll just fucking relax on that basis then, shall I?"

They stepped out of the building and onto the compound, and Eddie nodded his head in the direction of the warehouse. They hurried over and the young Cabot pulled open a door, letting them in.

"Jesus, Seth," he shook his head as he walked ahead, frowning, "What is it with you and that kid? Last time I saw you you were practically obsessed with keeping Richie out of trouble- but even Richie didn't get you this bent out of shape."

Seth gritted his teeth at the mention of his brother, forcing himself not to linger on the thought, instead scanning the warehouse interior.

Cabot was in the back with Vic and another man who had his back to the entrance, the three of them looking at a map pinned to a board, seemingly engrossed in it as they talked.

Seth was going to walk towards them – however, his attention was drawn to the two men closest to them who were sitting at a table playing cards. Their clothes were rumpled and both of them had fresh bruises forming on their knuckles. Bruises mirroring the shape of those on Morgan...on Spencer's face.

Seth was moving before his brain could even attempt to throw logic his way. He walked up to them with long strides, and they looked up, irritated, when his shadow fell over them.

"What?" One of them raised an insolent eyebrow at him.

"Don and Terry, I presume," he pressed out, dangerously calm, "The two geniuses who beat my hostages?"

One of the men had the far sight to look a bit worried at his tone then. The clearly stupider one just shrugged, unimpressed. "Yeah, what of it man? If you wanna say thank you-"

He didn't get to finish the sentence before Seth had whipped his knife out from where he'd stashed it next to his gun earlier, and brought it down with force. It went into the table, piercing Terry's hand and pinning it to the wood.

The man screamed as blood pooled under his appendage, jumping up, but Seth kept the knife in place, his free hand grabbing the man's neck and shoving in onto the table painfully.

"Yes, thank you very much," he hissed, "Do it again and I'll reward your other hand."

Eyes like daggers, he looked up at the second man, making sure he'd heard as well. The shock and fear in his beady eyes made it clear he had, and yet Seth still wanted to grab the knife and go for him next-

"Hey!" Joe's shouting broke Seth out of his red haze, pulling him back to reality. Joe was running towards them, Vic at his heels.

Seth didn't bother looking at him; anger and adrenaline still drowning out fear for the moment. He turned around towards Eddie instead, eyes ice as he said for all three men to hear, "You wanna know what happened to my brother? I killed him -because he attacked Spencer. So you tell that to your guys, to anyone else who thinks it wise to fuck with me. Tell them the crazy bastard with the nervous trigger finger is asking them nicely to back the fuck off."

He stared down Eddie, watched his eyes widen with grim satisfaction; he didn't have to look at the other two's pale faces to know that the message had been received.

"Seth, what the hell do you think you're doing?!" Joe had finally heaved his body over to them, and now he was standing there, fury written on his face.

"Sending a message," Seth said coolly as he pulled his knife out. Terry cried out in pain, immediately cradling his bleeding limb to his chest. "Make sure to pass it along."

He watched impassively as Don grabbed Terry and they both hurried out of the warehouse, presumably to find medical supplies. Seth didn't care. They wouldn't be going near Spencer again.

He turned towards Joe, stone-faced, implacable, "Don't even start. They got what they had coming. You make sure none of your other fuck ups come near what's mine again and we won't have this issue again."

He refused to be cowed, to apologize even. Joe might have him under his thumb but he couldn't let him see just how vulnerable he was, just how weak. He was still Seth Gecko. He needed to stay that; that was what they expected, what they wanted, and needed.

That was why Joe, unsurprisingly, did little more than to curse him out some more, throwing some empty threats into the air. Seth shrugged them off, maintaining his standpoint. Those two men weren't important enough to Joe to press the issue, that much had been clear to him from the start, but more so now.

With Vic, it would be a different story. Him, he couldn't kill. Not yet.

Seth made sure not to look at the dark haired criminal at all, not trusting himself to keep his cool should he see that damnable sadistic grin one more time.

He focused on Joe instead when the mob boss moved on to talking about the job again.

"-so, if Eddie hasn't told ya yet, we'll be using aliases on this job. No names. It's safer this way. I just wanna tell you now but you won't be meeting all of the gang tonight, only one. Him you might already know though."

Joe steered him towards the board at the other end of the hall, towards the third man he hadn't really looked at before. Now though, as they came closer, Seth's eyes widened in shocked surprise at the sight of a very familiar face.


	61. Chapter 61

"You won't be meeting all of the gang tonight, only one. Him you might already know though."

The third man turned around and Seth's eyes widened at the sight of a very familiar face. 

x

"Larry," Seth muttered, momentarily surprised enough to forget even his anger.

"Hey, no names I said," Joe rumbled gruffly, looking over his shoulder to make sure Vic was still by Eddie's side and out of earshot.

Seth ignored him, instead taking in the appearance of the man in front of him. He was middle-aged with slicked back, graying hair, clad in jeans and a plain white T-shirt, dark sunglasses pushed onto his head. There was instant recognition in his eyes; instead of looking surprised though, Larry merely smiled.

"The infamous Seth Gecko," he smirked as he walked up to them, "Heard you were dead."

He clapped Seth on the shoulder in a friendly manner, without hesitation, like he hadn't just seen him put a knife through a man's hand for no apparent reason.

It took Seth a long moment to get over his surprise but when finally he did it was with an involuntary sigh of relief.

He knew Larry. Had known him for a long time. Man was a crook and a killer, just like the rest of them, but he wasn't unpredictable, he wasn't a sadist or a psycho. He was a professional thief, like Seth, someone who only did what he had to to get done what needed getting done.

Of course, Seth would never trust anyone in his line of business, but the sight of this familiar face made him breathe a little easier. If Larry was in on the job that meant one less unpredictable nut bag a la Vic that could have been in his place. Larry was solid, reliable. They had been on enough jobs together for him to know that.

"Joe didn't tell me he recruited the best of the worst," he said, finally managing a semblance of a smirk.

Larry took the compliment with a wry smile. "Yeah, Joe's been pretty darn secretive about all of this -so much so I'm getting downright annoyed with him."

He threw an accusing look at the crime boss, but instead of getting angry Joe just patted him on the back before ushering both of them over to the now empty table.

"You'll see, it's for the best. The payout will put a stop to your bickering that much I'll tell ya."

"It had better, Joe. I didn't come all the way out here to pick up peanuts," Larry retorted, sinking into a chair and relaxing back into it.

Eddie and Vic walked over then, also taking a seat. Seth continued to keep his eyes off of Vic, instead focusing on the silver lining that was Larry's presence.

It opened up possibilities he hadn't thought he'd have...

"Alright, fellas," Joe began, grim-faced as he pointed at each one of them, "As I told you, we won't be having the real meeting till tomorrow. You'll meet the rest of the guys then. For now, just remember what I told you. Code names."

He pointed at Vic, "This is Mr. Blonde."

Vic raised an eyebrow, half amused, but didn't say anything so Joe moved on. "Mr. Blonde, meet Mr. White," he pointed at Larry, "and Mr. Black."

Seth shot him an unimpressed look. He didn't care about Joe's bullshit rules. Just like he didn't care about the job. He had half a mind to tell Joe what he thought of those ridiculous code names but in the end he stayed quiet, made himself listen to the man as he began to drone on and on about plans and tactics and more plans...better not to push his luck too much.

It was all vague still and he only heard half of it. But then, it wasn't like Joe wouldn't repeat all this a hundred times before they'd actually see any action; he knew how the man worked. So he sat still and let the minutes tick by, watching the light in the warehouse slowly fade and turn red.

Getting ready mentally.

Then, finally, when he knew the time was near, he shifted, pulling the men's attention to him.

"Sun's going down. I'm gonna go now, before the kid wakes up. Easier that way."

He ignored Vic's smirk and Larry's look of confusion, satisfied when Joe nodded in agreement.

"Right. Take one of the cars in the lot. Trunks are all big enough."

He got up and the others followed suit, preparing to leave.

"One thing," Seth said, stopping them, eyes wandering from Joe to Larry. "I want him to stay and watch the kid while I'm gone. I'm not risking him waking up alone."

By Joe's lack of surprise at the demand, Seth figured that Eddie had already somehow informed his father of what Spencer had attempted. Still, the man shook his head, gruffly waving him off, "Someone else can do that, I need-"

"No," Seth interrupted firmly, "It's not up for debate. I don't trust any of your guys and I'm not leaving without knowing he's safe. Him, I know."

Joe glared at his defiance, wordlessly seething but Seth didn't back down, glaring back unblinkingly.

"Someone mind telling me what the hell the problem is, or are you just gonna talk over my head like I'm a little boy some more?" Larry looked between them, mild annoyance dawning on his face.

Seth ground his teeth, tensing. He glared in Eddie and Vic's direction and while Vic just kept standing there, lazily leaning on his chair while he chewed on a toothpick, Eddie seemed to get the hint.

"Vic, I need to talk to you." He got up, pulling his friend up with him. "Come on, it's a private matter."

Vic rolled his eyes, but let Eddie pull him up easily enough, hips swaying as he sauntered out of the room.

"No worries, lover boy," he threw over his shoulder, winking at Seth, "I'll find another way to amuse myself in this place."

Seth favored him with a deadly glare, keeping his lips pressed together tightly until both men had left the warehouse. Only then did he turn back to his old acquaintance.

"Larry," he looked the man square in the face, "If you wanna know the details, let Joe tell you, but they're pretty fucking ugly. Bottom line is, I got a job to do right now and I need you to look after someone while I'm gone."

"What, Richie with you?" Larry asked, still looking confused by the exchange.

Seth grimaced. "No. Richie's dead. The guy...this kid, he's my...my hostage. I need him. Alive and unharmed. Joe's men nearly killed him twice already...I need someone I can count on to make sure that doesn't happen again while I'm out. Someone whose word I know is good. You, man."

"You need a hostage kept safe? You, not Joe? What for?" Clearly not for their job, was what he was thinking. Seth watched Larry's eyebrows rise with every new bit of information, at the apparent paradoxes. Seth could only wince internally at what he imagined the man might be piecing together right now based on both his and Vic's comments...he shook off his unease. Didn't matter as long as he did it.

"Yeah, long story. He's got nothing to do with our job. I brought him and I intend to take him with me in the same state he was then when I leave after the job. Just gotta keep him still till then. He's out cold now, won't be giving you any trouble," Seth explained, voice carefully detached, "If you do this, I'll consider it a favor to me."

He had to hope that would be enough; he had no other leverage. But then...God knew Larry would also appreciate knowing someone would have his back in an operation full of unknown criminals.

"Seth, you're being ridiculous," Joe frowned, eyes narrowed, "He'll be locked in, tied up, no one will-"

"I don't care. I want Larry there."

Larry looked at him, his taunt face, his burning eyes, and something about it seemed to make him realize the situation was serious enough to not wave him off or even ask many questions. Luckily, whatever question he might have, he didn't ask them then.

"Just watch him?" he shrugged, "Yeah, sure. Don't sweat it, Joe. I'll stay an extra half hour if it'll make things easier round here...all I got's a shitty, cold motel room waiting for me anyways."

Seth let his shoulders sag, inaudibly sighing in relief. "Thank you."

Larry regarded him with an odd expression at that and Seth figured he could probably sense that something was being leftout; he was sharp that way, always had been. Seth honestly didn't care though, not as long as he'd help him with this. He'd even tell him about the blackmail once he got back if Joe let him. Didn't matter to him either way...better for everyone involved to know just where his priorities lied, and what they'd need to do to keep him on board.

"I'll lead the way," he nodded at Larry, turning towards the door, "It's a room in the other building."

"You'll move him before you go," Joe told him gruffly, following with heavy steps, "There's a better room. Larry can wait out your paranoia there."

Seth frowned at that but didn't protest, deciding to give that suggestion a shot. Surely there would be a room with a little less metal for Spencer to hurt himself on, one that Vic wouldn't immediately know how to find.

They walked out of the warehouse and back to the main building. In passing Joe's office, the crime boss stopped briefly, sticking his head into the room. "Don, get your ass outta that chair, I need you."

Don appeared in front of them but a second later, still with his friend's dried blood on his sleeves and shooting a nervous look towards Seth.

Seth frowned when he saw him, tensing.

"I don't want him in there," he snapped, wondering how that could not be immediately obvious to Joe.

The older man just glared at him though, pulling Don along by his arm. "He won't be. He's going with you to dispose of the body."

Seth stopped, briefly, hands clenching by his sides - then he turned around, face hard and cold. "What makes you think I'd want his help with anything?"

"I don't care what you want, Seth," Joe growled, feathers ruffled, "He's the only man I can spare right now and you need someone to direct you to the dump site. You've cost me enough nerves today so give it a rest. I'm sure you'll be able to keep from acting like a couple of 12-year-olds for a 15 minute car ride."

Seth ground his teeth, wanting to refuse but he could see that Joe's patience with him was at an end. It wouldn't be any use to argue. Gritting his teeth, he turned away from them, focusing on getting back to Spencer instead.

In the end, he couldn't care about details, he had to remind himself. In the end, only Spencer staying alive mattered, not how he accomplished that. If there wasn't an easy way, he'd take the hard one.

When they entered the room, Agent Morgan's head snapped up, wide eyes darting from figure to figure, filling with apprehension when he saw four men enter. Seth returned his look of tense confusion coolly.

"Alright, let's do this," he said, walking over to Spencer.

He let his fingers briefly rest against the young man's pulse point again, making sure he was still stable. Spencer didn't move under his hand, out cold from the drug. He looked much too pale and vulnerable like that, with dried tear tracks on his face. His head fell back under Seth's touch, revealing his bruised throat, and Seth looked away from his face pointedly.

Focus.

"I thought you said it was only one guy," Larry said by the door.

"It is," Joe answered for Seth, jerking his head in Morgan's general direction, "That one won't need watching much longer."

Seth zoned out Morgan's reaction. He lifted Spencer off the ground and up into his arms, holding him securely as he walked towards the door. He turned around just in time to see Larry assess Morgan with a calculating yet familiarly detached look. Obviously, he knew what Joe meant. And just as obviously, he didn't particularly care. Working for men like Joe, he was no stranger to things like these.

Unlike many of their colleagues though, he didn't revel in them, which was what Seth was counting on.

"Which way?" he asked Joe, purposefully keeping his face blank when Larry's attention shifted to him and Spencer in his arms.

Joe jerked his head to the left and turned around, walking ahead, but motioning for Don to stay.

Larry and Seth followed Joe, down two corridors until they came to a smaller room. It was carpeted with no windows and it had a large bed and a chair in it. The bed's frame was constructed so that it remained under the mattress, not sticking out, and Seth immediately knew what Joe was thinking.

Something soft, with no hard surfaces or edges, nothing that one might hurt themselves on...unless one got up of course... He didn't have to mention that, however, because before he even could his eyes fell on the restraints attached to the corners of the bed. Wide cuffs, crafted from fabric, the kind one might see in a mental hospital, the kind that would allow for a person to struggle without being able to do damage to themselves...

Seth winced internally at the sight, determination wavering for a moment at the prospect of actually putting Spencer in that position and then leave-

The many ways in which this was horrible turned his stomach, but he fought and shook off the feeling before anyone could notice.

No choice. It wasn't a choice at all. Not for long...

He put Spencer down on the bed carefully, hesitating only minutely before moving to fasten the restraints around his lower arms, making sure to avoid the injured wrists, and then moving on to his ankles. Then he moved away, tearing his eyes away and straightening up before he could change his mind.

Looking up, he was met with Joe's usual mildly disapproving stare and Larry's newly found expression of distaste and morbid curiosity.

Seth knew what he was thinking then. Prisoners, hostages, people who needed to be killed to quiet them, all of that wasn't an entirely unexpected sight...but this wasn't how they kept prisoners.

"It's complicated..." Seth shook off his growing tension, resiting the urge to make Larry stop as the man's eyes wandered over Spencer's bandaged and cut wrists. Larry frowned.

"When I said I didn't want him hurt," he made himself clarify, "I didn't just mean by Joe's guys."

He gave Larry a meaning-laden look. Larry assessed him with new-found curiosity shining in his eyes. Seth bore the invasive look, not really caring to what conclusions Larry was coming about him and Spencer and their relationship.

"If he wakes up before I'm back, call me," he said, "Either way, don't take off the restraints."

"Jesus, Seth...what kind of freak show did I just buy a ticket to?" Larry frowned, shaking his head.

"Larry-" Seth started but Larry was already sitting down in the chair, getting comfortable. Seth opened his mouth again, wanting to say more, but the older man just shook his head tiredly.

"Go do what you gotta do. He'll still be right there when you come back, don't worry."

It was all Seth could do to nod then and walk out. He forced himself not to look back at Spencer again, or to think to much about anything that wasn't absolutely necessary. Time to get this over with. Dealing with the fallout would wait until he got back.

With one last nod to Larry, he followed Joe out of the room and they made their way back to Morgan's room. The dark-skinned agent glared up at them, full of contempt as they entered. Seth looked back coldly.

"Showtime, Romeo."

xxx

'They stand across the room, the distance between him and them a cold void, and yet their eyes burn into him like fire.

He keeps his gaze averted, face carefully blank, but they can tell, he knows, they can tell everything already by the set of his shoulders, and his clenched hands, and the silent, screaming misery and guilt that pours out of his every fiber.

"We know about the meeting on Joe Cabot's premises," Rossi says. 

Next to him Prentiss shifts restlessly and JJ wrings her hands. 

"We need you to tell us what we can't know, Dr. Reid. The things we can't retrace." The older agent walks closer, leaning over the table and Reid freezes under his heavy gaze. 

"Tell us. What happened after you were brought to Cabot's compound? What happened to Agent Morgan?"

He closes his eyes, fighting and losing against the tears that come and fall.'


	62. Chapter 62

It was an immense effort to keep still as Gecko leaned over him to undo one of the handcuffs, freeing him from the radiator. Every fiber in Morgan's body was screaming at him to move, to fight -but he couldn't.

Because Gecko was right. It didn't matter if he was cuffed or not, or how many shady looking men entered the room. He wouldn't move a muscle if it might cost Reid his life.

So, he stood still, while on the inside he raged and shook, let Gecko snap the cuff back around his hand once he was standing and lead him out of the room.

"Keep your mouth shut and walk," the criminal told him coolly, one hand on his arm, the other holding his gun.

Morgan walked. Vic and the old man were nowhere to be seen now, there was only one of the guys who had attacked them during their escape attempt following them as Gecko led him down a long corridor. Not that that was in any way reassuring. He made himself not think about it, focused on his steps...for as long as possible.

"Where's Reid?" he asked when the silence stretched for to long, anxiety winning over his resolution.

Gecko's grip on him tightened painfully.

"Told you to keep your mouth shut," he snapped tensely.

The other man was leading them outside now and Morgan stepped into the compound, chest compressing when he saw how little daylight there was left. He remembered what the men and Reid had said and knew that it was time.

Morgan did his best to not let it show that he was affected in any way; he kept walking, shoulders straight, face intent. The other criminal walked ahead of them, seemingly to pick out a car from the few that were standing on the lot.

"While he's there, you don't say anything." Gecko's low voice directed at him surprised him, made his eyes snap to the man's impassive face. He wasn't looking at him, still walking ahead as he spoke, quiet. "You don't mention Spencer, or the BAU, or what happened before. They don't know about it and that's how it'll stay."

Morgan looked at him, briefly distracted once again by how the man could manage to be so completely indifferent about one person's life and so concerned about another one's at the same time. The way he was obsessing about Reid's safety was mind-boggling, something Morgan still couldn't wrap his head around, that just wouldn't fit into the picture-

He shook his head, unwilling to spend his last moments pondering Seth Gecko's mental state. He wanted Reid safe and alive, that was all that mattered.

"I'm not stupid," he answered to the obvious comment, "Of course I'm not going to give him away."

If those men even thought they had connections to the FBI, it would mean Reid's death. Gecko's too. They had been lucky really, that Reid hadn't thought to spill the beans as a means to get himself killed...which didn't mean he wouldn't-

Suddenly afraid, he turned to Gecko. "What if he tells them-?"

"He won't. We'll both do our part in that." Gecko jerked him forward roughly, bringing them back into earshot of his companion. "Stop talking."

They arrived at the car and the other man popped open the trunk, looking at Gecko expectantly. Morgan tensed, stomach coiling into knots at the prospect of being shoved in there. Gecko pushed him forward by the shoulder, not waiting for him to argue.

"Don't worry, you wont have time to run out of air," he commented and Morgan couldn't tell if he was actually serious or simply mocking him now.

Then, he was being manhandled into the trunk, the lid brought down and locked over him, and he had no more capacity to worry about it as he had to focus on simply not panicking faced with the reality of his situation.

They were driving him out into the desert to put a bullet into his head. Any other theory was out of the question. If he'd ever for a minute believed in Gecko's promises, the presence of Cabot's man made it clear that none of that was going to happen. Cabot wouldn't let him live.

He would die tonight. And he hadn't even thought to tell Reid to give words to his family-

And just like that, it was impossible to keep in the misery and nausea and anger and panic he'd bottled up so far. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think-

The car started and drove off.

It took Morgan the entire ride to get some semblance of self-control back, to be able to put on a brave face when the car stopped and the trunk was opened again, he dragged out.

He wasn't surprised to find them in the middle of nowhere, with nothing except for the first pale stars and the car lights to illuminate the barren desert around them. It looked like the kind of place to bury a body.

Morgan swallowed hard, blinking rapidly.

A lonely, unmarked grave, covered by sand. Not what he'd hoped for, not what he'd imagined.

"Alright let's do this," Gecko ripped him out of his thoughts and Morgan whipped his head around, flinching, half expecting to see the man pointing a gun at his head already.

The gun was there, however, it was still lowered, and Gecko was holding up his other hand instead, presenting a cell phone. "Time to make the call."

Morgan's stomach dropped. He'd almost forgotten about what Gecko wanted him to do...what he would have to do. He needed to call Reid, lie to him, convince him somehow that he wasn't five minutes away from a dirt nap. His hands clenched to fists as he fought for composure under Gecko's expectant gaze.

He couldn't do it.

He had to.

Reid would never believe Gecko alone, and if he thought he was dead he would-

He reached out to take the phone, spurred by fear for his friend, but was hindered by the handcuffs still around his wrists.

Gecko frowned, nodding his head at the other man with them. "Don, the keys. Take the cuffs off."

The man, Don, looked up, surprised, irritated, at the request.

"What for? We got plenty of them back at base and it'll be much safer-"

"Hey," Gecko interrupted him, ill-tempered, "I didn't ask for your assessment of the situation, did I? No, I didn't. You're here to show me the place and dig the hole, nothing more. Part one accomplished. So why don't you start on part two and let me handle the heavy lifting?"

There was enough resentment and aggression layered in Gecko's voice that the man fell silent, even looking a little pale it seemed. He frowned, but didn't protest again, silently undoing Morgan's handcuffs and then moving back to the car to take out a shovel.

Gecko lifted his gun to Morgan's chest once he was free, eyebrows raised warningly, but Morgan was too busy watching the man with the shovel walk off some distance into the desert and begin digging. His grave.

He felt lightheaded all out of a sudden. Desiree, Sarah...his mother...Garcia...he'd never come home to feed Clooney again, never see another morning-

"Eyes on the prize, cowboy," Gecko interrupted his thoughts, as insensitive as he was single-minded.

Morgan stared at him, unable to keep his utter contempt and disgust for the man hidden any longer. He wanted so badly to throw into the man's face what a fool he was, that Reid would never care for him, not for the monster he was, no matter how many lies he stacked on top of each other...but he couldn't, not even now. Not when his only hope was for Gecko to keep Reid safe and unharmed.

He pressed his lips shut, watched Gecko punch a number into the phone.

"So this is how it's going to happen," he said without looking up, "You're going to say what I tell you and only that. Tell him I let you go, tell him I've gone back already, that I'll be there soon, that you're going to find a city, a safe place, that he doesn't need to worry. Tell him to stay put and not do anything stupid. Don't tell him about Don. I was here alone. You got that?"

Swallowing, Morgan nodded and Gecko connected the call, igniting his last act.

xxx

Larry Dimmick sat in his chair, dubiously looking at the young man on the bed in front of him.

He still had no idea what the deal was with Seth and that kid, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. Seth had said it wasn't about the job they were here for -but then, what else could it really be about? Another job Seth was doing with just Joe and Eddie? Possible.

But then, why hadn't he just said so?

There weren't many other options really...the kid looked like hell, even still and unconscious as he was now, and Larry didn't doubt for a second that he was here against his will, as a hostage. Maybe extortion, he figured. Some rich kid with a loaded father, something like that...the Gecko brothers had quite the track record with taking hostages.

He frowned then, reminded of what Seth had mentioned in passing. Richard was dead. The Gecko brothers were no more. It was only just Seth. Seth who was supposed to be dead and who was still here, about to do a job with the immense risk of him getting recognized by someone in the States. Why wasn't he in Mexico, laying low? Was it money? The more he thought on it, the less sense the whole thing made...

He startled, jerking up, when the phone Seth had given him suddenly began to ring. He answered it, and Seth greeted him from the other end of the line.

"How is he?"

Larry's brows pulled together.

Yet another odd thing, for Seth to seem so worried about a mere source of money.

"He's fine," he replied anyway, playing along for now. He would ask his questions once Seth was back, not while he was doing a job. "Still out though. No one's been in or out."

"Good," Seth said, sounding relieved, "I need you to wake him up. He should be coming around by now."

Larry got up, walking over to the bed. He reached out to shake the young man's shoulder.

"Put the phone by his ear and take a walk. I'll hang up when I'm done," Seth instructed.

Larry felt his brows furrow once more with beginning irritation. He didn't enjoy being ordered around, much less when he was in the dark about what was going on. It was only the memory of the look Seth had given him back in the warehouse that kept him from arguing. Seth had to have a reason for being so tense, so on edge, for not wanting him to free the young man even now...all in due time.

He shook the kid again, more insistent, until finally his face crunched up and he stirred, groaning like he was in pain. Drugs, Larry thought vaguely, watching as hazel eyes fluttered open, filled with disorientation for only a second before that turned into terror.

His eyes flew open, body going tense, straining, and the little bit of color his cheeks had had left, seemed all but washed away within a second. The intensity of it shocked even him a little. Fear was to be expected from a hostage, but this...

"Morgan-" The young man's eyes darted around the room, and he flinched when he saw him standing there. Larry was about to say something to reassure the man that he wasn't a threat per se, but the kid's attention wasn't on him for more than a second, back to scouring the room, for something, someone-

Who the hell was Morgan?

"No," he whispered, when he found no one else, and the horror in his eyes clouded over with tears, "no, no-"

"Give him the phone now," Seth demanded tensely, shaking Larry out of his stupefied state. Right, shit.

"Calm down, kid," he said levelly, holding up the phone as he leaned down, "Someone on the line for you."

He got another flinch when he pushed the phone between the mattress and his ear, breath hitching.

The boy looked so wrecked overall, so full of fear and hurt that it made even him surprisingly uncomfortable. He was almost glad to leave the room then and let Seth deal with his own mess.

xxx

Please review if you want to continue reading this! Thanks.


	63. Chapter 63

xxx

"Reid?" Morgan forced himself to speak, to let Reid know he was still alive before his friend could panic even more. "Reid, it's me, Morgan."

He could hear Reid's hitched breaths on the other end of the line, the sound heart-wrenching. Traces of relief mixed in with so much distress.

Enough to motivate him to stick to Gecko's plan.

Reid needed to hear what he was about to say.

"Morgan?" Reid's voice sounded pressed, thick and shaky with tears, "Morgan, where are you? What's happening? Seth isn't here, he-"

Morgan closed his eyes, the pain in Reid's voice almost too much to bear. In front of him, Gecko cleared his throat and he pulled himself together, forced himself to change the tone of his voice.

"I'm fine, kid, calm down, okay? It's okay. He drove me out into the desert-" Another rash, panicked intake of breath. "-but he's gone now. He just left me here. Let me go- I'm okay. Reid. Do you hear me?"

Silence for a long, tense moment, then Reid audibly shook his head, voice cracking, "No, he-"

"Yes, Reid," Morgan insisted, "He's gone. Just left me the phone and said he was sticking to his word. To what he promised. I would have been the last person to buy it, you know that, but I'm standing here now -what can I do but believe it? He said he had to keep up appearances with Cabot but once it was only him..."

He felt Gecko's approving nod when he didn't say anything about the second man in presence, the mention of whom would have immediately let Reid know that he was lying. Not that he was so sure he was being convincing right now...Reid's sense of trust was so shattered, Gecko had lied to him so many times, proven so often that his depravity knew no bounds...

"Reid...I don't know why he did it...if I was wrong...I don't care about the reason really...he did it. He told me to find my own way back to the city. To not look for Cabot's place unless I wanted to endanger you," he carried on, desperate to convince his friend, "I'm going to go there, Reid, to find the team." Relieved and confident...he thought he sounded like it, despite how nauseous he was truly feeling.

He thought Reid's breathing had slowed just a little, like maybe he was actually selling it. Please, oh please...

"You're free?" Reid sounded so small, so afraid, it was breaking his heart.

"Yes," he lied, "I'm on some road side...I'll catch a ride, find the team. And then we'll come find you, okay? We will...but Reid, please, you gotta promise me to hold on until then. Don't- please, think about JJ, and Garcia, and...and your mom...how am I supposed to tell them you did something to yourself just days before the rescue?"

He didn't have to fake the hurt then at least, the worry, even if it turned his stomach to manipulate Reid that way. He wasn't above it though.

For a long time there was no reply at all, and Morgan was almost sure that Reid hadn't believed him after all and was having some sort of episode on the other end of the line. Then though, he did answer, and Morgan could tell he was still crying, but he sounded less panicked than simply rattled and exhausted.

"I- okay...I won't. I won't try again."

He didn't sound like he was lying. Morgan couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

The before he could stop himself, he asked, "Are you alright, Reid? Where did he bring you, are you hurt-?"

Gecko glared at him, moving a step forward as he went off script. Morgan clutched the phone tightly, defiant. It was too late and Gecko couldn't give himself away now unless he wanted to blow the whole thing. And he had to know.

"I...I'm fine..." Reid seemed to have difficulty forming the words, his voice sounding weak now that it wasn't filled with panic, "...Morgan...don't come back."

Morgan's heart fell.

"Please, promise me. Please just go back and...and live...don't bring the team back here..."

"Reid, stop it, the team is getting you-"

"No!" Startling energy suddenly when seconds ago he'd sounded so broken. "I don't want them or you here. I don't want to be rescued. Seth won't let me get hurt. You saw how he really is...he'll protect me. I'll be fine. I swear, I'll be fine...I'll stay safe - if you don't come."

"Reid, you-"

"No! Morgan, I don't want to come back, I couldn't- I'll be good with Seth, so...so don't come for me. Morgan, swear it!"

It sounded frighteningly like an ultimatum. Too much like Reid was barely holding it together. Too much for Morgan to keep talking.

"Reid," he forced the words out, reluctant, "I believe that he'll do anything to keep you...safe," he bit out the last word, "but...swear to me you'll be safe. That you won't let them hurt you, keep your head down, do as they tell you...that you won't hurt yourself."

It was all he needed to know, all he needed Reid to do. The team would come anyway, but he wouldn't risk pushing Reid arguing about that...if thinking they were far away and safe would keep him alive, so be it.

"I promise," Reid said, far too quickly.

"Okay, kid, I promise, too."

Morgan pressed his eyes shut, praying that only one of them was lying.

Gecko shifted again, obviously displeased or impatient and Morgan knew it was time to hang up. He didn't know how much longer he could do this anyway.

"Reid, the battery is dying, and I need to call the team-"

"Yes. I'll- you'll have to hang up, Morgan, I can't-" Morgan nodded, and refused to think about that half-sentence and what it meant. Reid was safe. Safe.

"Morgan?" Reid's voice sounded small again, none of his determination left suddenly. "Can you please tell my mom I love her... and that I think about her, and...I'm sorry."

Morgan had to take more than a few second before he could steady his voice enough to answer, until he felt he could talk over the sensation of his heart being ripped to shreds.

"She knows, Reid."

He thought he heard Reid nod again, and when he next spoke, he knew it was in good-bye.

"Thank you, Derek. For trying."

He choked, fought, composed himself, just barely.

"Always, pretty boy. You remember that. Remember the people who love you."

With that, he ended the call.


	64. Chapter 64

“Always, pretty boy. You remember that. Remember the people who love you.”

With that, Morgan ended the call. Closed his eyes, fought to collect himself, to steel himself once more. He was done. Any second now would be his last. He forced himself to open his eyes and look up at Gecko, to meet his killer's gaze unflinchingly.   
He would die with his head held high. He only wished it would be quick now, without any more taunts and low blows. Gecko though didn't move, seemingly not wanting to do him that favor.

“Congrats, you killed the part.” The criminal was regarding him coolly, his fingers tightening around the handle of the gun, the corners of his mouth pulled in thinly-veiled displeasure. 

Numbly, Morgan thought it was about what he shouldn't have said on the phone, but- 

“So what's the story with you two anyway?” Gecko asked, seemingly out of nowhere, the question almost conversational if it hadn't been for his eyes, “I've been meaning to ask. Is Vic right thinking that you two were shacking up before all of this?”  
Morgan stared at him, taken aback. Of all moments...of all questions...

Gecko seemed so casual about it, so cold still...if it hadn’t been for that one traitorous flicker deep in his eyes revealing his obsession. Morgan realized then that this had to have been eating him up inside ever since that first time he'd called Reid by his nick name over the phone. 

He shouldn't have answered, should have thought about what provoking Gecko might do to Reid later on – but the words just made his anger boil over. Anger that this man could stand there and actually act jealous, like Reid was his lover, not his victim- like there was any real question over who he might care more for out of the two of them. Like he hadn't just listened to Reid suffer through this good-bye, like he hadn't been there to see his terror, to see him falling apart-

“I love Reid,” he ground out, barely keeping his disgust at bay, “like a brother.”

'That makes one of us who loves him', he didn't say. Not that he would have been heard. 

“Curious nickname then,” Gecko smiled thinly, insisting, “So very freudian.”

Morgan stared at him, unable to believe the man. For a moment Gecko's words were enough to even make him forget he was about to die, possibly after a bad beating the way it was starting to look now. All he could think of was the way Gecko had been pushing Reid into walls ever since he'd found them, how he'd so cruelly manipulated him, ignoring all his pleas and tears in favor of getting his way- The images intersected with those of Reid's shy smile and kind, sparkling eyes from a lifetime ago, his quiet laugh, his dry wit...nothing but cruel contrast now to what he had become.

He tried to stop the words from coming but failed. 

“And what if it were? Doesn't matter, does it? It's not like he's ever gonna see me again, or like he'll ever come out of this and be able to have any other person look at him, or touch him, without thinking about what you and your brother did to him-” He saw the flicker of something dangerous in Gecko's eyes then but it was too late to stop. “It'll be there, every breath he takes, every time he closes his eyes. A permanent wound that can't heal because it's infected. You don't have to be worried – with what you've done to him, I doubt I could free him of you now even if he'd let me. Not that we'll ever find out. You win.”

He'd realized the mistake of opening his mouth about halfway through his accusations, at least managing to still make it sound like he wasn’t expecting the BAU to come for Reid soon. Still, Gecko's eyes had darkened, his expression slipped, and Morgan tensed, expecting the man to finally attack or shoot him. 

Gecko still didn't move though. Instead, he turned away to look over at Don, who was standing knee deep in the ground by now. Nearly finished.

“I don't need you,” he said calmly, beginning to count the rounds in his gun, “to tell me what I already know.” He didn’t wait for Morgan to comprehend the words or even reply, continuing. “What I need you to do now, before we move on, is punch me in the face.”  
Morgan blinked, certain he'd misheard, but Gecko looked back at him with a straight face, completely humorless. 

“What,” Morgan began, confusion quickly morphing into dread as he thought about why the man might be saying this. What, did he actually need an incentive to kill him and justify it? Or did he just want something to show for should Reid see through his lies? Did he think crying 'self-defense' would ever work? “What?”

Gecko frowned, quickly back to looking exasperated. He lifted the gun hand, beckoning Morgan over. “Did I stutter? Come now, in the face, no pulling punches. Shouldn’t take too much outta you to convince yourself.”

It wouldn’t. Gods knew, it was all he wanted to do, all he had wanted to do since the first time he'd seen Gecko touch Reid. Pounce, grind him into the dirt, squeeze the life out of him...but...what if this was a trick, a trap, something that would hurt Reid more...?  
His hesitance seemed to take too long, because Gecko's expression clouded over again, before suddenly turning hard and mean. 

“No?” he raised an eyebrow mockingly, “And here I thought you'd want to get at least one good punch in before the end of this. Well...maybe I was wrong and you'd rather do some more talking. About Spencer and me...and Richard.” 

The way he said his brother's name sounded like a threat, voice cold and slick, turning Morgan's stomach with dread. 

“I mean, you know everything about me and Richard, right?” he said condescendingly, icily, “Or maybe you don't. Maybe we should talk through some of those theories floating around in that thick head of yours. I bet you have a bunch. I bet they keep you awake at night. What is it you think about, huh? Do you think about all those forensic reports in Richard's file? Did that girl from the bank tell you how he looked at her....does it make you think about how he looked at dear Dr. Reid? Or do you think about that phone call before the bar? The hitch in his voice when he told you he was alright...but you knew it was from my knife against his throat- does it make you think about how his voice would hitch if he was-”

Morgan was across the distance between them, his fist landing square in Gecko's face before he could finish the sentence. He let his arm snap back, lashing out with full force a second time before his brain had even caught up to what he was doing. By then, there was blood on his knuckles, and rough hands grabbed him from behind, pulling him back. 

Breathing heavily, adrenaline and hatred rushing through his veins, he let Don wrestle him away from Gecko, who stood with an unbelievably satisfied expression, calmly wiping blood from his mouth. Morgan stared at him and felt cold settle in the pit of his stomach when he realized the man had baited him...successfully. His stomach turned.   
Too late...whatever he had wanted, he had it now...  
He felt numb suddenly, almost boneless as he let Don drag him over to the hole in the ground, hard fingers digging into his arms. What had he done- ?

Gecko followed them, once again cocking his gun, fully loaded.

“Alright then,” he said, matter-of-factly, as he raised the gun, “Hope you're glad you got that out of your system.”

And pathetically enough, he was.   
There was no time to try and understand the repercussion of his actions, or to even find back into a peaceful state of mind, to properly think of his friends and family anymore, not when Gecko's finger was already crooking around the trigger – all Morgan could do was focus on the hatred flowing through him and curse Seth Gecko and hope to all the Gods that he would be heard.

“I hope you rot in hell,” he hissed, spitting on the ground at Gecko's feet. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that, Agent Morgan,” Gecko smiled mirthlessly. 

Then, he pulled the trigger.


	65. Chapter 65

Okay, so this doesn't really seem to be moving the plot forward much but I really wanted to write it :) Did I mention how much I like Mr. White? ;)

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x

Reid was staring at the spot on the mattress where the cell phone had been, clinging to the sound of Morgan's voice echoing in his head. He was nauseous and dizzy, still feeble from whatever he had inhaled earlier, but his mind was still racing, nothing able to distract him from the incessant cycle of frantic thoughts running through his head.

Morgan was alive. Alive. He'd made it.

Reid blinked slowly, forcibly, and tried to internalize the thought, to cling to it in order to stave off the lingering panic lurking at the dark edges of his consciousness.

Breathe in. 

He was safe. Seth hadn't killed him.

Breathe out. 

Morgan hadn't lied, he would have known. He'd told the truth.

Breathe in.

He was going home. He was going to be safe with the team. He wasn't coming back here.

Breathe out.

Safe. Safe. Safe.

It was all he could do to make himself repeat that mantra over and over in his head, to tell it to himself as forcefully and clearly as he could, afraid of what might happen if he wavered for even a second.

Morgan had been saved, nothing else mattered. He focused on that instead of the sick feeling in his stomach, the fogginess of his brain, and the heaviness of his limbs. The drug had been powerful, he knew, but it wouldn't have mattered if it hadn't been. Seth hadn't taken any chances, had tied him to the bed, leaving him unable to move at all.

Reid did his utmost not to focus on the feeling of the restraints around his wrists, to not let the distant terror the situation inspired in him seep to the surface. Logically he knew it didn't matter anymore, even if he couldn't fully keep his instincts from screaming out – no one here had any means of hurting him anymore. It was just like before Morgan and the BAU had returned into his life, back when he' d not let himself care about anything anymore, unable to.

And he wanted to let the world around him fade again, just to not have to think anymore, to not have to focus on telling himself his friends were okay, to not have to block out the misery of his current position constantly. Utterly drained and exhausted from the emotional turmoils he'd gone through in the past hours, he wished for the respite, the welcome white static... but he couldn't get himself to calm down, to switch off. It wasn't the Cabot's or Vic still being out there though; it wasn't even the stranger sitting in a chair across the room whose eyes lingered on him from time to time –

Seth.

That had to be it.

Before he saw Seth, looked into his eyes to see the truth there, to make sure he hadn't been wrong about Morgan, he wouldn't be able to get rest of any form-

"W-where's Seth?" he asked, the question coming out as more of a croak, words slightly slurred. His voice was all but gone, his mouth feeling like cotton.

The man across the room heard him anyway. He looked up, seemingly surprised to find him speaking suddenly, when before all he had done was to flail in disoriented panic or to stare at the mattress, seemingly apathetic. He didn't look annoyed, although Reid didn't think he would have cared much. All he needed was to know-

"He'll be back soon. Couple a minutes at the most," the man hesitated, looking him over for a moment, seemingly conflicted, "You're not gonna be sick, are ya? Do you need-"

He trailed off, maybe realizing that he wasn't supposed to talk or care or both, or maybe just not wanting to seem like he wanted to.

Reid looked at him fleetingly, for a brief moment considering him, what his possible role here might be...his connection to Seth... Not that it mattered really, but it was better than to simply stare at the door in wait, or to spend more time pointedly not worrying for Morgan.

The man didn't particularly look like a criminal, more like a working man in his mid-forties. He had a gun tucked into his belt but didn't seem focused on it the way the other men had been, or like he would be particularly keen on using it on him. Not that that had to mean much in these circles.

Whoever he was, Seth knew him. He wouldn't have left him here if he thought he couldn't trust this guy, not after what had happened...not considering the helpless position he was in now.

Suicide watch. That was what this was, wasn't it? Ordered by the guy who'd made him want to kill himself in the first place. A bitter smirk crept onto his face for a second.

"Something funny?" the man asked, brows furrowed slightly like he thought that maybe Reid was laughing at him. At that, Reid actually scoffed, mirthless.

"Yes, hilarious," he croaked, closing his burning eyes for a second as he tried to shift into a less uncomfortable position.

The man's frown deepened but Reid ignored it, indifferent.

"How long have you known Seth for?" he asked, more to help himself draw his focus away from the fear eating at his soul than out of actual interest. It was an easy guess that the man was a long time criminal, likely a robber and con man like Seth himself, here for Cabot's job but already known to Seth from a prior one.

The man didn't reply for a long moment, just watching him instead. Reid didn't ask again, interest already fading again. Seth, he thought...where was he? Why was he taking so long? No, everything was fine. It was fine. God, he felt so sick...nauseous...it was almost impossible to ignore now. His fingers had begun to tingle, numbing, and cold sweat was gathering on his brows and the palms of his hands.

"Could I...get some water?"

Focusing on other things was unfortunately bringing with it the awareness of just how parched his throat was.

After a moment and another odd look, the man stood, walking over to the bed and grabbing a glass bottle from the nightstand. Reid watched him break the seal and pour some water into a glass. Looked like Seth had learned that lesson...

He tried to push himself up at least slightly to be able to drink but the restraints kept him securely in place. Yet another lesson learned it seemed. He looked up at the man questioningly but only received a shake of the head. "Not taking those off."

Reid let his head fall back, exhausted and frustrated.

"I'm not going to drown myself, you know," he murmured weakly, eyes on the glass instead of the man. He was relatively sure he meant it, too.

Instead of smiling the man merely frowned again; his brow creased briefly, maybe worried, or uncomfortable, and Reid was, for a split second, reminded of Gideon. The thought hit him hard, out of nowhere, and he shook it off startled, feeling liked he'd been hit in the gut. Not that...not now...

"That what you tried to do?" the man asked levelly, face quickly smooth again.

If he'd seen Reid's expression he didn't mention it. Reid, in turn, decided not to linger on how the man seemed weirdly uncomfortable about some aspect of this situation.

He could see it wouldn't matter...whatever the man's problem was, he wouldn't free him or he would have already. Still, the way the man's gaze kept drifting to his neck, his wrists, the marks on his skin, clearly wondering something, maybe wanting to ask even...it seemed uncharacteristic, and it shouldn't have seemed so intrusive but it still made him squirm.

He didn't want to think about that.

"No," he said reluctantly, eyes averted. It wasn't saying no to the question the man was actually asking, the one about the origin of his slashed wrists - but it was all he had to say.

The man didn't push him for an answer, maybe also realizing that he ought to not care.

He leaned over the bed instead, glass still in one hand, reaching out with the other. It was obvious what he wanted to do, there was no bad intent in his eyes, and yet Reid felt himself flinch, his body reacting unconsciously, his heart skipping a beat.

The man stilled, then leaned back slightly and held up his palm for him to see, as if to show it was empty.

"I ain't gonna hurt you, kid," he said, tone oddly mild again, and Reid swallowed hard, looking away once more.

He nodded silently and let the man push a hand under his neck to lift his head so he could drink. The water felt amazing on his tongue, and he groaned softly, only then realizing the full intensity of his thirst. He didn't know when he'd last had a drink...there were so many gaps in his memory now...but even when he hadn't been lucid, Seth would have made sure he drank... Seth-

He pulled back when the thought of Seth invaded his mind again with renewed urgency.

"Where's Seth?" he asked again, and the man took the glass away but otherwise didn't move.

"Back soon," he repeated, only this time he didn't sound as much like he though the statement would be reassuring anymore. "Tell me something," he added after a moments consideration, "What's he doing with you? What'd he bring you here for?"

He looked down at Reid with sudden curiosity shining through his mask of neutrality.

"That," came a voice from behind them, "is a question you should be asking me, isn't it?"

The man above him might have tensed in surprise, Reid would have never known because he practically jumped at the sound of Seth's voice, shock, relief, and dread all slamming back into him at full force, sending his heart racing.

He was back.

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Yeah, not much for plot development. Still, fun^^ Everything else will be resolved in time, promise :D

Thanks for reviewing!


	66. Chapter 66

xxx

"That," came a voice from behind them, "is a question you should be asking me, isn't it?"

The man above him might have tensed in surprise, Reid would have never known because he practically jumped at the sound of Seth's voice, shock, relief, and dread all slamming back into him at full force, sending his heart racing.

Seth was back.

His care-taker let go of him before turning around, and Reid saw a flash of raised eyebrows before he was presented with the man's back.

"Spose it is," he said casually, assessing Seth where he was leaning in the door frame, face tight and guarded. "But it can wait a while longer if it must." He'd seemed pretty eager to find out just then, but apparently he could sense that Seth's attention was divided at the moment.

Reid was staring at Seth around the man's back, transfixed on his face, desperately trying to read anything out of his blank expression. Nothing...nothing to see...no, not in front of Cabot's man, of course not, but-

He looked unbearably cold, inhuman almost. That patented, terrible mug shot expression...

Reid squirmed, feeling the bonds holding him acutely now, fear coming back to nearly choke him out of nowhere. No. He'd let him go. This was an act, he knew that. It didn't affect him anymore. Except, now it did, it was too much to take.

Seth stepped up to his acquaintance, resting a hand on his shoulder. His expression shifted into something resembling gratefulness for a moment, although it looked like an effort, fabricated. "Thanks, Larry. I'll find you soon- then we can talk."

It was a promise as much as it was a dismissal, impossible to overhear.

Larry sighed, long-suffering, then shrugged, and stepped past Seth towards the door. "I'll find us a bottle."

He didn't look back at Reid before he walked out the door.

Seth stood, waiting, for a tortuously long moment -then he walked over to the door, closed and locked it, before walking over to the bed. Reid stared up at him, blood rushing through his ears. There was something wrong with Seth's face, part of him noted numbly...a split lip, a discolored cheekbone...blood- his heart stopped for a second, dreadful, crippling fear filling him-

"He's alive. He's fine." Seth's face finally opened up, still tight and somber, but honest and open, with a gaze that was unwavering, unblinking. "I let him walk."

Seth's voice had never sounded more beautiful than it that moment.

Stale oxygen rushed out of him, relief and joy flooding him instead. Tears were dripping down his face before he knew it, his body shaken by the sheer force of emotion.

Alive. Safe. Far away.

He'd known it already, but- Oh, thank God, thank God-

Seth looked down at him quietly, wiping his tears away in a motion that seemed automatic. Then he checked for a temperature before he laid two fingers against his pulse point. Reid let him, eyes fluttering, too focused on finally being able to breathe in again.

Overcome as he was, he almost didn't hear when Seth next spoke to him.

Maybe he wouldn't have if it wasn't for his tone.

"I need you to listen very carefully, Spencer," Seth said quietly, in that same tight, artificially calm voice that he'd used before he'd knocked him out. It wasn't angry anymore as he'd feared...but still full of unresolved tension.

Reid squeezed his eyes shut, feeling too exhausted to hear what he knew would follow. He wanted to feel relief about Morgan, nothing else-

"I meant what I said earlier," Seth's voice wasn't sharp and threatening now, but the message was the same as before. "He's safe now, and he'll stay that way. No one knows he's alive. But...if you do anything to jeopardize-" "I know," Reid swallowed, fingers clenching in thin air, "I won't."

He had no energy left to argue, just wanted Seth to stop talking like that. He knew the cold, domineering behavior was an act, that Seth was in truth more scared than angry, and that, in his own screwed up way, he thought he was protecting him by doing this to him... Knew that he probably wouldn't go through with the threat ever...after all, he'd just saved Morgan for him...

But, that look in Seth's eyes when he'd pulled the trigger, that raw, unhinged fear...that had been real, and it made him think that if he died, Seth might actually lose it and go on a killing spree, that he might go find the team-

He shuddered just thinking about it. No-

Reid blinked back tears before forcing himself to look up straight into Seth's eyes. "I won't," he repeated as earnestly as he could, "Promise, you'll never- I'll do what you say, nothing else."

Seth's face twitched at those words and for a moment he looked seriously disturbed, hit, shaken even -but just as quickly his mask was back on and he nodded, accepting the promise he'd forced out of him.

"I won't hurt your friend," he said quietly, not adding a condition, and his voice was still that which Reid couldn't help but believe.

He had to look away then, suddenly seized by the cold fear that Seth's expression would change again as well, afraid to see the pain there that he knew was buried under the surface. He wasn't ready to face it, he knew. It had been there all along, only now there was nothing to distract him from thinking about it, about Seth's thoughts and motives in this...

He'd risked his life saving Morgan for him...when it would have been so easy to get rid of him and live on...he'd risked everything when Reid had bee so sure he'd be selfish-

Reid pressed his eyes shut, the thought overwhelming him. He tried to push it away, but there was nothing else to focus on, nothing but the cool mattress underneath him and the restraints around his limbs.

Thinking about the latter was worse though, taking his breath away again.

"Can you..." he blinked, swallowed, "...please take these off. I can't-"

He knew it might well be useless to ask, but he couldn't take this immobility much longer.

Seth didn't move for a moment, lips in a tight line, and Reid was already sure he'd be ignored when Seth moved after all.

Wordlessly, he pulled out his gun and shook the bullets out of the magazine, pocketing them again, before pulling open the drawer to the nightstand and dropping the empty gun into it. His knife followed, then he locked the drawer and slipped the key into his other pocket.

Then, he began to remove Reid's restraints. He didn't utter another warning, maybe because he'd actually believed Reid had changed his mind, or maybe because the idea of him getting much of anything done in his current state was obviously ridiculous.

Reid sat up the moment he could, hasty, and immediately swayed, dizziness making his sight blur.

"Wait-" Seth reached out to steady him by his shoulders, about to push him back down with light pressure, but Reid evaded him, shaking his head. The feeling of nausea from before had suddenly returned with a vengeance.

"I'm gonna be sick-" Pressing a hand to his mouth, he struggled to get out of bed.

Again, he succeeded mostly because Seth pulled him up and steadied him, supporting his weight on the hasty way to the second door in the room. There was a bathroom behind it, and Reid didn't waste any time, falling to his knees in front of the toilet and emptying his stomach into it.

After, he sat there for a moment, watching his hands shake. Chloroform, he thought numbly. He touched the corners of his mouth, half expecting to find a chemically induced rash there, but it seemed like Seth had wiped most of it off his face after he'd lost consciousness. Of course. Of course he had. He ground his teeth at the sudden spike of anger that thought caused in him. God, even that...why couldn't he just have-

"It'll pass out of your system with no lasting effects," Seth said from behind him, toneless, like that was in any way the appropriate response, like that made it okay

Reid pushed himself up, too much momentum almost throwing him off balance again. Seth took a step forward, reaching for his arm but Reid evaded him, bitterness having taken over for a selfish moment. He made it over to the sink and leaned over it to wash out his mouth.

He was shaking still, but it wasn't just from exhaustion anymore. There was all this rawness inside him, emotions that he didn't know how to channel. Not anger, he realized, not truly, not at Seth... Seth had saved Morgan's life, partially by knocking him out, that was becoming clear to him now that his mind wasn't clouded by panic...and how could he resent that?

No...it wasn't that; it was the way Seth's mask was crumbling at the edges, the way he looked like he wanted to reach out for him- the way he looked like he was hurting because Reid was hurting. That made Reid want to scream, because it was so unfair, because hating Seth, and mistrusting and resenting and fearing him had been all that had been holding him up for so long and now...

He looked up, into the mirror, and regretted it immediately when he found himself staring at Seth, the man unprepared, with his mask down. Reid was hit with the full intent of every emotion Seth had been hiding at once. Pain, fear, guilt, regret, heartbreak, all that and worse. He stared at it, at the truth, and felt himself crumble at the sight.

Seth startled when he met his gaze, face immediately turning to stone again -but the damage was done and Reid felt the weight of it drag him down, like clumps of ice in his stomach, in his veins.

'I'm so fucking sorry...I screwed up so bad...can't love you the right way...I'll fix it...so you'll be happy...' 

He hadn't heard those words when they'd been spoken, not really...but now they rang clear in his mind, impossible to push away. He hadn't believed it till the end, till now - but Seth had fixed it, had done the selfless thing. After the countless times he'd reminded himself that Seth was insane, cruel, evil even...after he'd almost believed Morgan when he'd demonized Seth, after he had convinced himself that Seth would know no borders when it came to keeping him. After he'd told himself that he needed to stop justifying Seth's actions, that it was Stockholm syndrome, that the man had ruined his life for selfish reasons, that any love he felt for him was a lie and undeserved.

Seth had gone and saved him.

For Reid. At an immense risk and expense. It couldn't have cost him his life, freedom, and Reid. Still could. Still he'd done it. For him.

He'd saved Morgan the same way that he'd spared Prentiss and Rossi, for the same reason he'd always done anything.

Reid swayed, caught himself just barely. Tears were burning in his eyes yet again, blinding him, and yet he saw, saw-

Seth had taken care of him, saved him, protected him, from that first moment on, starting with the kidnapping. He'd tried to get him through the ordeal unharmed, had even let Hazel go to reassure him, he'd saved him from his brother, had risked his life to save him from the vampires when he wouldn't have had to...he'd gotten him out of that bar alive, out of the desert, had kept him safe...

He hadn't been forced, not after the bar. There was no way he could tell himself that anymore. And even before...Seth hadn't forced him, raped him. He'd kissed him against his will but then stopped...what had happened after, he'd asked for.

Just like he'd asked to stay with Seth despite knowing he was a criminal and dangerous company. Seth hadn't pushed him into a physical relationship...all he had done was to hold him through his nightmares, to comfort him, to make him laugh and feel at home. To take his fear and put the ground back under his feet.

He'd lied...but what should he have said? It wasn't Seth's fault that vampires had killed his team...no more than a hurricane or a flood would have been his fault. Still, Seth had even told him it was his fault. Still, he had asked to stay, because then, without a memory, he had been able to see Seth more clearly than every day after regaining it. He'd known back then how much Seth loved him, that all he wanted was for him to be safe and happy, that he'd rather hurt himself than hurt Reid.

He felt the truth, seen it, known it with all his heart.

Until the pain of remembering his losses had distorted all that, turned it into something terrible and vile. Seth had been selfish, yes...but hadn't he been selfish, too? He'd turned down rejoining his family and friends so he wouldn't have to deal with the emotional stress; he'd chosen not to deal with the team's deaths, hadn't gone to their funerals, hadn't given their families closure...he'd been just as selfish as Seth.

Instead of accepting that though, he'd put all his guilt and pain on Seth after remembering, had blamed him, focused on the thought that Seth was insane, obsessed to the point of accepting destruction, evil.

Evil? For what? Stopping him from ending his life while he wasn't thinking clearly? He was alive because of that now, Morgan would be able to tell his mother he wasn't dead because of it-

Obsessed to the point of accepting destruction? After Seth had let three BAU members go free, how could he still think that?

How could he still tell himself that his love was Seth had been undeserved, after he had shown him just how good he was, just how selflessly he loved him?

It wasn't Seth's fault that Reid couldn't bear being in love with him, that vampires, that fate had destroyed his soul to a point where he couldn't take loving him. Reid was so broken, so pathetic and useless, and still Seth was fighting for him, holding him up at his own expense, through all the accusations, the blind resentment-

Seth could have left him, could have given up...he'd been catatonic, there been nothing left to take from him...But Seth had been strong for both of them.

Despite having lost his family, too. Having gone through the same trauma. It had never been about that, only ever about Reid, in those countless nights.

What right did he have to play victim-?

A sob tore itself out of his throat, the force of his emotions literally shaking him. Seth's hands twitched, like he wanted to reach out automatically, comfort him like he always had, but he didn't, didn't touch him because he was so sure now Reid wouldn't want his touch, that he detested it...he hadn't touched him beyond what was necessary ever since that one kiss that had tainted everything, that had made Seth think he had been forcing him all along-

Oh, God-

He had whirled around, throwing himself into Seth's arms before the other man could step back in surprise. He clung to Seth desperately, feeling nothing but utterly pathetic and rotten inside for being this lofty, this weak-willed. He knew it was cruel, doing this, that it would be better to try and be strong and keep a distance like Seth, not create any wrong hopes. He hadn't been strong enough to live with the weight of his past before, hadn't been able to pull himself together, not for anything...he probably never would.

Knowing he'd been wrong wasn't fixing anything.

Yet he couldn't help himself. It suddenly felt like he'd fall apart if he didn't touch Seth, didn't find a way to express-

There were no words, nothing he could have said. Too much had been said between them, too many words had lost all meaning, too many had been lies. He could tell Seth he was sorry. He couldn't tell him he loved him. Just like Seth hadn't been able to for so long for the same reasons.

He pressed his face into the crook of Seth's neck, wrecked, gasping. Seth was tense against him, hands hovering just over his shoulders -God, he wouldn't even touch him anymore now unless it was life or death, probably always thinking that it wasn't voluntary.

"No," he whimpered, pressing closer frantically.

No. He'd screwed it all up so badly- only because he hadn't trusted himself, hadn't known enough to trust Seth- He caused all this pain, he'd broken Seth heart in just the way Seth had broken his. Worse even.

"Spencer-" Seth's voice was tight, sounding slightly choked as his hands hovered over his shoulders, like he thought it would be a crime where tying him up and shoving him into walls wasn't. And Reid couldn't say anything, couldn't even explain-

So he held on for dear life, fingers clenched in Seth's suit, tears staining the man's collar, and somehow, without words, it seemed that Seth understood what he couldn't express.

Or, maybe he didn't.

Either way, he finally pulled him in closer, one arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other on the back of his head, "It's going to be alright," he murmured, "It'll be all over soon. You just got to hold on for a little longer- you'll be home soon, and this will just be another nightmare."

The words made Reid sob even more violently, hitting him hard when for the first time ever, he actually believed it when Seth said he would let him go home.

And if he hadn't known before then that he would never be able to make himself leave, he knew it then. He'd never go home. Not just because he was entirely too weak to face his old life and build a new one -but because he'd never leave Seth.

"Please," he gasped, frantic, lips trembling, "D-don't let go. Don't let go, Seth, please, don't let me go-"

A shudder seemed to go through Seth, his large body seizing, but he didn't let go, and he held Reid up when he swayed once more, keeping the ground underneath his feet.

~Hold it together, birds of a feather 

Nothing but lies and crooked wings 

I have the answer spreading the cancer 

You are the faith inside me~

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Song: Evil Angel, by Breaking Benjamin

Okay, so I have to say, I'm really happy with this right now -but then it is 2:30 AM :S 

I will have to reread it in the morning. I just hope all those shifts in thought make sense. If youre not sure anymore who is wrong/crazy by now, Reid, Seth, or Morgan, or all of them, don't worry I'm right there with you. Welcome to Stockholm Syndrome, if you don't hate Seth right now, you have it. We all do. 

Or does Reid's train of thought make sense after all? ;) Hehe...

Please, let me know what you think about this, what I need to change, what doesnt make sense. Cause I will change it if I have to. Thanks :-*

K, I'll crash now *yawn*


	67. Chapter 67

x

Seth grabbed Spencer more tightly, not surprised at all when the young man swayed against him.

The drug he'd administered had had to be potent for it to work and Spencer had already been in a weakened state upon breathing it in. Adding to that his emotional turmoil...

He pushed down the renewed stab of guilt and self-loathing he felt at having Spencer shake like this in his arms. At what he was saying...

"God, I'm so sorry, I never- don't know how I could have- I swear I-"

Not two minutes ago, it had seemed like Spencer was too angry and appalled to even be touched by him - now he'd done a complete 180 suddenly. Seth felt bile rise in his throat, but he bit his tongue. Everything he'd done since Vic had showed up, every forceful action, every harsh word, every threat, had been meant to protect Spencer. From others and from himself. He'd made damn sure he was believable, too -so he could hardly fault Spencer for being afraid because of that now. For trying to placate him in any way he thought might work.

Still, the memory of that forced kiss back at the motel along with the desperate way Spencer had plead for Morgan's life, grasping at straws, still tore at his heart, making him feel sick to his stomach.

It was hard, walking the line between wanting to reassure Spencer and keeping him safe this way. He shouldn't have told him he wouldn't hurt Morgan, should have kept that open as a threat, but Spencer had just looked so frightened, so wrecked-

Right then, he wanted to tell Spencer that he didn't have to hold him like this, say these things, be touched by him, because it wasn't a way to help his friend – Instead, he pulled himself together, pushed down his personal discomfort and repeated the only line worth hearing.

"Keep yourself safe and he'll be safe, Spencer. That's all you need to do."

Spencer nodded immediately, too fast, but he still didn't let go, clinging to Seth in a way that felt too much like their early days together, much too painful to stay still.

"I want you to lie back down." He took hold of Spencer's arms and began maneuvering him back to the bed, doing his best to block out just how easily Spencer let himself be pushed down into the mattress. He knew he couldn't expect trust, that had been made abundantly clear- he'd just have to let his actions speak for him. He pulled away, attempting to get up and give the younger man his space.

The hands in his suit only dug in deeper pulling him back.

"No, Seth, you have to listen to me, please," Spencer sounded near frantic, staring up at him out of wide, teary eyes.

Seth took hold of his hands as firmly as he dared, disentangling them from his lapels.

"Just calm down. Rest. I won't go after-"

"I know that."

He startled, surprised at the sudden, vigorous interruption. He stilled and searched Spencer's face, his eyes, confused when he didn't find fear there, but pain. Guilt. Shame.

What-? 

"I was w- wrong...stupid! You saved him! L-like Prentiss, Rossi, Hazel...everyone, me- y-you only ever- ….but I couldn't believe, couldn't trust you- should have known, instead... I- I blamed you f-for everything and it wasn't e-even- j-just because I was t-too weak to face-to accept- a-and you were o-only trying t-to- you helped me, built me up- you didn't make me stay, I decided... a-and I still let myself hate you, just because it was easier, because I couldn't handle-"

Seth stared at him unblinking, completely floored. He could see that this wasn't an act, that Spencer actually meant this.

Instead of relief, fright filled him. No- Spencer had been brutally clear about just how he felt about everything Seth had done, and he had been right, too. For him to have suddenly changed his mind -it made Seth afraid for his mental state.

What had happened with Morgan had been more than traumatic for Spencer, he knew that, probably nearly as traumatic as seeing his other friends killed by vampires. If it had been too much...if his mind had lapsed back into some surreal mindset to protect itself... No, he thought, panicking, no, that couldn't be happening, he couldn't have- not this close to being saved, to it all being over-

"Spencer, stop. You know that's not true. You have no reason to tell yourself that it is."

He couldn't let this happen. No matter how much that tiny sick, dark part inside of him reared at those words. No matter how much it hurt to be reminded of what he wanted so badly and never could have back.

Forget ethics, Spencer was in so much danger as it was, he couldn't be that unprotected, that foggy-headed; Seth couldn't allow him to forget the reality around him for one second, not here, not yet, not when Seth couldn't stay in this room to watch out for him.

But Spencer kept shaking his head, more and more upset, "No, it's true...I was so unfair, so selfish...wouldn't see, I - the things I said to you- and in the motel, I made you think- I, god, I-"

He pulled his hands out of Seth's grasp, shakily reaching up to his face. "You tried so hard. I wouldn't see...that it all happened to you too,... you never wanted it to end that way...you were going to keep me safe...you love me."

Seth just stared at him miserably. He couldn't deny that, the words alone so much of a punch to his gut that he could barely think to move away again. No, he hadn't wanted any of the terrible things that had happened to happen, and yes, he wanted Spencer happy and safe because he loved him. He'd spent gods knew how long trying to convince him of that. It was only now, hearing Spencer reiterate his own defenses, that he fully saw how feeble they were.

"Yes, I love you." He swallowed hard, fought to keep his composure, to steel his features. He grabbed Spencer's hand, intending to pull it away from his face but could only make himself squeeze it tightly. He ground his teeth. "It doesn't change a damn thing. I still did what I did -I got you here - and I will do what I have to. Whatever that may be."

He fully expected that to finally make Spencer see sense, to remember all the things that Seth had done out of 'necessity'. To recall how he'd called him sick, how he'd screamed that he'd rather be dead than with him, so broken, so filled with anguish but clear-eyed.

He stared at Spencer, unable to comprehend how he could appear completely lucid, clear-eyed again, and still say this now. It was all still there, the pain, the cracks to his psyche, and yet-

"I don't care what you say," Spencer cried, defiant, "I am remembering...all of it! A-and it hurts, so much that I can't breathe- b-but you made it stop, before...you saved me, a-and now you're saving me again- a-and I need you to know I-"

He didn't get any further. Seth didn't get to come up with an answer that could have stopped him talking.

In that moment, someone started pounding against the door, and loud shout erupted outside in the hallway.

"Seth! Open this goddamn door right now!"

xxx

~The thorns which I have reap'd are of the tree I planted. 

They have torn me, and I bleed. 

I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed.~

―Lord Byron

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Sorry this one took a little longer to write. Hope you enjoyed it! 

I'm wondering, is this making anyone question which side they are on or has it always been a clear thing for you? Is Reid right in saying he, too, is responsible, or is he just telling himself that by now? I'd be interested to know what you guys think :)

Either way, please review, thanks :D


	68. Chapter 68

"Seth! Open this goddamn door right now!"

Seth whirled around, startled when the shouting outside grew louder and more aggressive.

Shit- Joe.

Cursing, he stood, fumbling through his pockets hastily. Half the bullets clattered to the floor before he could get a hold of them and he clutched the rest, already going through his other pocket to find the key to the nightstand. Quickly, he unlocked the drawer, intending to grab and load his gun, but the pounding on the door had gotten so aggressive that he realized he wouldn't have time. He made a quick decision and grabbed the knife instead, shoving it into his sleeve.

"Seth-" Spencer was staring between him and the door, just as startled, and disoriented, but more openly apprehensive. He, too, could tell they were trouble.

"Stay there," Seth told him, "I'll get rid of them."

Then he hurried over to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open.

"What?" he snapped, stepping out into the hallway.

He was confronted with Joe Cabot and his son whose tight and angry faces immediately let him guess at what the problem was. His whole body stiffened at the not so subtle threat underlying their expressions, tension rippling through him. Damnit.

"Where's Donny, Seth?" Joe barked without preamble, his face dark with brewing anger. Not that he didn't know why.

He'd expected to have this conversation - just not right then, not here...damn, he'd been distracted, his head clouded by the argument with Spencer.

This wasn't the place to do this, with him at a disadvantage, unprepared. But the time for choices had gone, he could see that. They, especially Eddie, looked incredibly loaded, powder kegs ready to go off.

Seth felt the weight of the knife against his arm but he stood still, didn't move, didn't even blink. If he took it out, he would probably cause things to escalate, he knew. He could take them if they attacked- probably- but there were more men behind them. No. He'd already decided he couldn't risk making a break for it. He had to cooperate -if that would still be an option in a minute...

"Where's Don?" Joe pressed him again and Seth took a deep breath. He'd know in a second.

"He's dead," he said coolly, detached.

No point in trying to stall or lie. Joe would find out anyway.

Sure enough, the older man's expression slipped, anger completely taking over, and Eddie took an aggressive step forward, getting into Seth's already small space.

"What!?" he snapped, "Care to explain how that happened?!"

Behind him, Seth could hear Spencer moving, knew that he was overhearing the conversation. He cursed mentally. Shit, this really wasn't how he'd wanted to do this. The last thing he needed was for Spencer to start doubting his recount of the events in the desert after all.

Well, too fucking late to avoid it now.

"Calm the fuck down," he snarled, holding his ground, "He fucked up is what happened. We got to the site and while I was digging the grave and he was sposed to watch the guy, he took off his handcuffs for whatever moronic reason. Guy got the jump on him, shot him dead before I knew what was happening. I put a bullet in him and dumped them both in the hole." He didn't flinch at the response he got, going into the offensive instead. "What the fuck was I sposed to do?! Bring the body back here? This isn't on me, your man fucked up."

He was looking at Joe as he said it, stared for a long moment until he saw the first trace of grudging acceptance of what he was saying on the man's face and stupidly let his guard down- Only to promptly find himself punched in the face by Eddie. Pain shot through his nose and he staggered back into the room, barely catching himself.

Behind him, Spencer gasped in shock, but Seth's eyes were pinned to the criminal in front of him.

"Is that what happened? You sure that's how you wanna tell that story?!" Eddie hissed menacingly, "Cause everybody saw just how much you wanted to gut Donny this afternoon. You sure you didn't shoot my colleague for touching your boyfriend over there?"

He had his gun pulled from his belt and waved it in Reid's direction, an expression of disgust on his face. Seth stepped in his line of fire without missing a beat.

He eyed Eddie darkly, holding his ground. "I gave them both a warning and it was done with that. Why would I kill him and risk you losing your shit over it? You think I don't know the situation well enough not to do that?"

It made sense; he had always been a reasonable man, and he knew Joe knew that - but again, Eddie spoke before his father could.

"Oh, I don't know, Seth," Eddie was seething as he jabbed the gun at Seth's face now, "Do you know what's at stake for you? Because I'd be happy to remind you-"

Seth didn't look at the gun, eyes boring into Eddie's, his outward calm belied by the iciness of his voice, his clenched teeth and fists. "You touch him and you'll end up just as dead as your fucking friend."

"Big words for someone who has a gun to their head," Eddie sneered, pressing the gun against Seth's temple, finger on the trigger, "You think you're in control here? You think you can put pressure on me?"

He would shoot, Seth suddenly realized, freezing. He wanted to, finger twitching on the trigger-

"Stop!"

They both froze at the cry, and the sound of a gun's safety being released that followed.

Eddie's eyes flickered to the right, to a point behind Seth's back, and Seth felt his stomach drop at what he knew had happened. He didn't need to turn around to see Spencer stand there, aiming the gun he'd so foolishly abandoned next to him at the young crime lord. No- He'd taken such care to keep those weapons out of reach, he had to-

He made to turn around but Eddie pressed the barrel of his gun harder to his head, letting him know not to move.

"Spencer-" Seth swallowed, fighting to Keep still even as adrealine rushed through him, making him sweat. His heart was racing at the thought of all the things that could happen now...the last time Spencer had had a gun in his hand-

"Put down your gun," Spencer interrupted his thoughts.

Seth didn't know whether to sag in relief that he wasn't simply blowing his brains out, or be more afraid at what he was apparently doing instead. Making demands? What was he thinking? Had he even thought or just grabbed the gun given the opportunity-?

"Shit," Eddie exhaled, the sound half an incredulous laugh, his eyes on Spencer for the first time, "You're even more of a fucking idiot than I thought, Seth."

"What the hell is going on?" Joe growled from somewhere in the background, belatedly finding that he had a voice, too."What, you can't even keep your gun out of reach now, Seth?"

"I was putting it away when you threatened to kick the door in," Seth answered through gritted teeth, sick to his stomach, barely keeping his outward calm. Shit, shit, shit- He had to talk to Spencer, to look at him so he could see his state of mind-

Joe growled in frustration, but Joe wasn't right in Seth's face, wasn't the main problem at the moment. Eddie wasn't either, not anymore, although he clearly thought that he was.

"Well, that makes this a sticky situation, doesn't it?" Eddie said and the way he said it pulled Seth's attention back to him, to his twisted expression, the intent in his beady eyes, reminding him that there were two very real threats to Spencer right now. "I wasn't gonna do this, but I think now I'm gonna have ta drop your boy."

Seth's heart stopped, his entire body freezing up in horror for the fraction of a second, but before he could shake it off and fall into action against the slightly more pressing of the threats, Spencer suddenly moved, stepping around him and closer to Eddie.

Turning his head, Seth saw with wide eyes that he had the gun pointed at the crime boss' son. He was shaking still, practially radiating his emotional turmoil still, but miraculously, his hands were steady around the weapon.

"Big words for someone who has a gun to their head," he deadpanned, voice in complete contrast to the stillness of his hands.

Eddie's face twitched, anger overlayered by apprehension suddenly. It was clear that Spencer's mixed signals were also throwing him off, leaving him uncertain about the magnitude of the threat in front of him. He'd only ever seen him incapacitated, weak, helpless...this was as unexpected as it seemed inexplicable.

Seth stood there, cold with fear, as Eddie searched Spencer's expression and stance for weaknesses, for any signs that he wouldn't be able to pull that trigger effectively. If he did, Seth knew, he'd whip his arm around and shoot Spencer, eliminate the threat-

"It's not loaded," he said hastily. Convince Eddie to just knock him out, to make him realize he didn't have to lose a bargaining chip here-

Spencer didn't miss a beat. "Are you sure about that?"

Seth froze. No. He wasn't. He'd dropped some of the bullets, hadn't even seen Spencer take the gun-

Eddie's eyes, which had flicked to Seth when he'd spoken, snapped back to Spencer's face. Whatever he saw in both of their expressions, it made him hesitant to take the first step.

"So what, kid?" he snarled, mean-faced, "You think I'll let you walk outta here? Do you even know how to shoot? Put down that gun or you'll be taking a dirt nap next to your friend tonight."

Spencer didn't move.

"Put down the gun," he demanded hoarsely, "or we'll find out how good my aim is."

Eddie stared at him, clearly out of his depth, furious but not sure if Spencer wasn't serious, or possibly capable. It was then, with the tension in the run so thick that it could have been cut with a knife, that Joe finally spoke up.

"Seth. Do something, or this is gonna end real ugly real soon."

Seth who had been staring at Spencer in near shock at what he was pulling off, tensed, acutely reminded of the fact that he needed to act. He couldn't fathom what Spencer was doing, why he hadn't shot himself yet and was instead in this standoff with Eddie...had anyone asked him a minute ago, he would have bet money that Spencer didn't care enough about his own life and well being anymore to put up any sort of fight against anyone. He'd fought for Morgan, but Morgan was gone now, no one left to protect...

Except him.

The thought was a fleeting as it was ridiculous, and yet it stuck in his head unbidden as he thought of the things Spencer had been saying before the knock on the door. Was he actually-? No. That would be insane. And yet, if Spencer was doing this to get away, then why wasn't he demanding they let him out by now, why was he just standing there, repeating the order that Eddie take down his gun?

It didn't matter, Seth decided. This was his chance to do something. He didn't know if Joe thought he would have some sway with his presumed hostage for some reason, or if he was simply telling him to risk his ass and try to disarm the kid, either way, he latched onto the opportunity.

"Alright, everybody be cool," he lifted his arms, appeasing, "This don't got to go down. Eddie, take down that gun and walk away. Go deal with your shit and I'll deal with mine, alright?"

It was a long shot and predictably, Eddie just scoffed, shaking his head.

"I'm not leaving till he's dealt with."

Course not. The last thing they needed was Seth dead in a locked room and a hostage with a phone and a gun. Which, for all they knew, might well end up happening.

Only one thing for him to do then. Talk Spencer down and pray it wouldn't get them both killed.

He turned around slowly, avoiding the barrel of Eddie's gun, and faced Spencer.

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x

I know slow and short, as usual. Sorry guys, I'm doing my best. At least the chapters are coming somewhat faster, eh?

Please Review!


	69. Chapter 69

Seth turned around slowly, avoiding the gun pointed at his head. Eddie didn’t lower his weapon but he let him move at least.

Spencer visibly tensed but didn't take his eyes off Eddie, leaving Seth to assess his posture and expression unwatched. The stillness of his hands seemed impossible considering the tremors that ran through the rest of his slight frame. He still looked just as distressed as before, seemingly not breathing, his fear clear as day, merely buried under a thick layer of reckless conviction.   
Seth had no idea what had caused the return of either, considering that technically Spencer had nothing left to fear or fight for now that Morgan was gone -but he had no room to think about that. Just hours ago, Spencer had tried to kill himself....he was just as likely to suddenly decide to shoot himself as he was to shoot Eddie...

“Spencer, give me the gun.” Seth swallowed around the grip of cold fear choking him and lifted his arm slowly, reaching out. “Don't do this, don't-”

He heard his own voice crack, unable to prevent it, to mask his emotions. At the sound, Spencer's eyes flitted to him, widened, and his face screwed up, lips trembling. He drew in a shuddering breath, motionless for a moment -looking like all he wanted to do was break down in Seth's arms again. 

“I'm not-” Spencer shook his head vehemently. He bit his lips to keep from uttering the rest of that sentence but somehow Seth understood anyway. 

This wasn't about suicide. If Spencer wanted to shoot himself he would have done it already. He hadn't grabbed the gun for that, wasn't refusing to give it up because it gave his the chance to die- he was scared-  
“Okay.” Seth, heart racing, torn between fear and relief, nodded quickly and reached out for him -but Spencer blinked and shook his head; he tightened his grip on the gun, pulled his shoulders back, and locked his arms.   
Seth froze, hands placating. 

“Okay. What are you doing then, kid?” he asked quietly, with forced calm, shaking his head, “This is crazy-”

He didn't get to point out that the chances of Spencer getting out of here like this, or of keeping Eddie and Joe at bay, if that was his plan, were infinitesimal, because Spencer shook his head yet again, harshly.   
“If I put down the gun,” he stared at Seth imploringly, trembling, “He'll kill you...and then-”   
He broke off yet again, drawing in another flat breath while staring at Seth through his tears.

It clicked then, fell into place, that look, that fear that Seth hadn't been able to place. Spencer's action was even crazier than he'd thought. He actually was scared for him.

There was no room to ponder, to digest or dissect this realization and its implications; all Seth could do was to note that Spencer wasn’t thinking clearly and then to operate on that basis. On facts. Spencer wouldn't put the gun down because he was sure Eddie would kill Seth. Eddie wouldn't do that, of that Seth was 99 per cent sure now that Joe had told him to stand down -but how was Spencer supposed to know that, or to even trust any claims in that direction? He didn’t know these men, only knew that they were ruthless killers; he knew Seth but what use was that when they had no basis for trust anymore either? 

Seth's mind raced as he went through his slim options. Spencer had said minutes ago that he'd been wrong not to trust him.... that of course had been crazy talk, brought on by momentary aberration, and he had no idea if it would withstand the reality of the situation.  
To make matters worse, he couldn’t say much that would help convince Spencer to trust him on this, not without going into detail while the Cabot's were listening to every word. No. Not an option. They didn’t trust Seth as it was -if they caught on to the specifics of his and Spencer's relationship, of just how much Seth would do to keep him safe...they would likely decide it would be too risky working with Seth after all....  
Luckily, it was easy to twist Spencer's words, and he did it in a heart beat. Shut down. Played his role. 

“Eddie, put the fucking gun down,” he snarled, getting a startled blink from Spencer and a scornful scoff from Eddie at his sudden return to aggression.

“Are you fucking deaf, too?” he snapped when no one reacted, shooting an angry glare over his shoulder, exaggerating that emotion to hide everything else he was feeling. “You realize you're the one fucking this up right now, don't you? I had him under control. Thanks to you he now thinks you'll kill me, and that with me gone you damn sure won't let him keep breathing. Because that makes fucking sense, Eddie!” He glared at the man, saw this tiny cracks in his no-nonsense expression and carried on, grasping that the straw he'd found. 

“Unlike me, he doesn’t know yet that you’re just a choleric with a heart of gold,” he made sure to add the right amount of condescension and acidity to that statement, burying the fear these people could practically smell, adding just the right amount of Seth Gecko to know Eddie would bite. “So why don’t you end this yourself and just show him what we both know- that you won't be shooting anyone because you already know I'm right about Don and about what I did, and because you need me- and then you can go vent somewhere else and I can deal with the mess you made.”

It worked. Eddie's face contorted in anger once more, but his stance wavered, losing its energy; at the same time Joe cut in from behind, chiding. 

“Eddie, back down already. He has a point. This has gotten out of hand enough.” He waited until his son finally moved, slowly, grudgingly lowering his gun arm. Then he turned his attention back to Spencer, glaring at the young man coldly. “Now. You listen to me, boy. Seth may be right, we need him and I'm willing to believe him on account of Don...I will let this go, and so will my son -but if you’re still pointing that gun at him in 30 seconds, I will personally put a bullet between your eyes.”

One did not have to know Joe Cabot to see that he was telling the truth then. 

Seth turned back towards Spencer, praying that he was seeing that there only was one thing to do if he wanted to keep them from both getting shot, whether he believed any of them or not. His detached mask fell the second he had his back to the Cabot's and he stared at Spencer beseechingly.   
Spencer stared back at him, breathless and pale, eyes gleaming. His hands were shaking now and Seth silently shifted to keep that fact from Eddie. 

“No one's gonna die,” he said quietly, putting as much honest conviction in his voice as he could, “Just give me the gun now, and I promise you'll be safe, and when this is all over I will walk you out of here in one piece. You have my word.”

It was almost a joke. He'd said almost those exact words during their last standoff...and, everything aside, he had kept that promise at least. If Spencer believed anything it was probably that Seth wouldn’t let him die.   
It was all he could do anymore.

It took a sheer eternity, and Seth thought his heart might stop as precious seconds ticked by, knowing that Joe's patience was wavering -then, finally, thankfully, Spencer lowered his gun, shoulders sagging, the last scraps of strength fleeing him.  
That was all he needed. Seth bridged the remaining distance between them in two steps, simultaneously, stepping fully in Eddie and Joe's line of fire and grabbing his gun from Spencer's hands.  
Spencer grabbed his forearms, whether to find balance or to possibly move him Seth wasn't sure, already focussed on the remaining threat in the room. Wordlessly, he pushed Spencer back two steps in the direction of the bed, then turned around to face the Cabots, gun in his hand now.

There was no ignoring the remaining tension in the room. Eddie was glaring at him, looking like he wanted to shoot them both anyway now, or like he at least wanted to beat Spencer for daring to attempt this – he stepped forward even, but Seth didn't budge, and Joe called him off quickly.

Behind him he could almost feel Spencer shudder, mirroring his own feeling exactly.  
Joe glared at him from across the room. “Come on, Eddie.” He turned around, halting in the threshold. “This is your last warning, Seth. I'll believe you on account of Don. But you control him and you control yourself, or this ain't gonna end pretty, ya hear?”   
Seth nodded and finally they retreated. He didn't dare relax until they'd closed the door behind them. He hurried over to the door and locked it again.   
Then, taking another deep breath, he turned back around to face Spencer.


	70. Chapter 70

I honestly thought I'd never get this done. So sorry guys. Thanks to the lovely people who took the time to review and support the story. I will try to be better.

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x

Reid swayed, the last remnants of strength seeping from him with the door falling shut. He was left with nothing but icy, paralyzing dread, nauseating fear.

Seth...Cabot had nearly shot him dead...if he hadn't-

His legs felt numb and he blindly grabbed hold of the bed post to steady himself. Across the room, Seth was standing, motionless, shock still frozen on his bloodless features. Reid couldn't blame him; he himself was shocked by his violent reaction, the sudden, reckless motion he'd made. He hadn't been thinking, entirely lead by instinct when Cabot had pointed that gun at Seth.

The jolt of gut-wrenching, blinding terror he'd felt at seeing that murderous expression on the man's face-

He had never been scared for Seth. Never.

Seth was always the one in control of the situation, the one people were scared of, the threat - or the one who knew how to eliminate the threat - but never the one in danger. He'd felt scared at the thought of Seth going to prison before, at the thought of leaving him behind...but that hadn't been the same, it hadn't been real-

He pressed a hand to his mouth, shaking, terribly aware that the horrible fear he'd felt for Morgan's life before didn't even come close, didn't compare, not to the thought of Seth-

Unbidden, the mental image of Seth's face, mirth in his eyes as he laughed with him, the feeling of his arms around him, the sound of his voice throughout his sunny days and his nightmares...it all flashed in front of his eyes. With one slip of a finger, those eyes could have been empty, those arms cold and lifeless...it would have all been gone, his lifeline, his home, his heart.

He hadn't thought for a second before jumping to pick up that gun; his body had already known what his mind was too warped to process properly.

Reid clang more tightly to the bed frame. The fool he'd been...to think he knew what it would feel like to lose Seth, to think he'd be able to handle it...this feeling right now, this fear, this dread, this loss, it was real, rattling, sobering.

He'd known before that he wouldn't be able to leave, no matter what -what he hadn't considered was that it might be out of his hands, out of their hands...that Seth could be killed and that the choice wouldn't be theirs.

No. No, no, no. That couldn't- he couldn't- but there was no way- God-

Reid pressed a shaking hand to his lips, terror and hysteria threatening to claw their way out of his throat. He blinked rapidly, fighting to stay grounded in the moment and not lose himself in the bout of panic threatening to overcome him, zeroing in on Seth instead.

Seth who should be yelling at him for what he'd done, who should be out of his mind with anger, Seth who was just standing there like someone had frozen a TV screen, motionless, his black eyes lowered to the gun still in his right hand.

Reid gaze flickered down, following. Seth had flicked open the magazine of the gun. The one with the three bullets inside of it. The one he hadn't been bluffing about. He looked back up at Seth's face, realizing it was a mirror of his own feelings, and his stomach fell, gut twisting in an instant, painful jolt of guilt.

This unbearable, disgusting, helpless feeling that was still making him feel sick now, that wouldn't fade...Seth had been feeling that all along, every minute, every day...ever since he'd tried to slit his wrists, every second after...possibly even since after the bar...and he had just-

Reid was moving, staggering across the room, throwing his arms around Seth with all the strength he had left. The second he did relief and immense guilt crashed over him at once, nearly sweeping him away. He buried his nose in Seth's collar, dragging in calming breaths, focusing on the fact that Seth was warm and solid and alive. Every second it stayed true made it a little easier to breathe, to think around his anxiety...

He pressed his eyes shut, fingers digging into Seth's skin in a way that must have been painful, and yet Seth still didn't move.

"It's okay," Reid breathed, hastily, stupidly, words gushing out that he knew had no value, "It's okay...I promise, I won't die. We won't die. It'll be alright..."

It was ridiculous, him using those same empty promises that had always made him laugh and feel sick when Seth had said them...those things that Seth hadn't been able to promise and that he couldn't promise either. They weren't safe, they weren't alright...he wasn't alright and he couldn't promise he ever would be, not when he wasn't even sure he wanted to get out alive on the other side of this. He couldn't make Seth forget he'd tried to die...couldn't make himself forget it...couldn't be completely sure that the urge wouldn't return once he wasn't distracted by fear for others...

But none of that mattered. He had to say these things either way, make these promises, to both of them, to hang on to the last remnant of hope there was...he had to promise to try, to live, to fight...if not for his mother and Morgan and the team, then for Seth and knowing how it felt, this loss, this pain...

He reached up, willing his hands to stop shaking as he cupped the man's face. He needed him to hear this, needed to comfort him somehow, needed Seth to comfort him in turn...

The touch was what seemed to finally snap Seth out of his stupor, making his features twist before he all but jerked back, pulling away. His expression was testament to his inner turmoil, fear, confusion, guilt, anger and pain rolling over his features in uncontrolled waves.

Seth snatched his hands out of the air, holding on so tightly it ached.

He stared at Reid, teeth ground together, face contorting. He looked like he wanted to be mad, to yell at him over what he'd done, but he was too distracted by being scared for him still, in too much pain, barely holding it together...

'I did this', he thought, unable to stop himself. 'I broke everything that was left to break.'

There had been so much darkness, ugliness right from the beginning and the little morsels of good that Seth had carved out of it somehow, he had destroyed. Reid felt tears burn in his eyes, white hot like the anger he felt at himself right then. He'd done this...and now he couldn't even begin to try and fix it because Seth would think he was lying, acting.

Despair rushing through him, his shoulders slunk; he hung his head, trying to hide the wetness of his face.

"I...I'm not going to apologize."

He shook his head, fighting and failing at keeping his voice firm.

Seth's finger's twitched around his hands.

"He...was g-going to kill you and I j-just got so...so scared, Seth, I- but I wasn't going to k-"

He spoke too fast, losing his breath and with it his stand, legs trembling worse, and Seth finally let go of his hands to grab him, hold him steady, the motion so instant, so automatic that it twisted Reid's heart again. Seth's grip was tight at first, but wavered, his fingers twisting like he was fighting with himself over how soon he could let go again, keep his distance. All because...Reid shook his head harshly, frustrated and appalled at the thought of the inner battle Seth had to be fighting.

"Please, just- stop!" He half shouted, half sobbed into Seth's chest, grabbing hold of his suit again, shaking him, "Stop it- I'm sorry, I know it's my fault that you think- I wasn't thinking, I was trying to protect Morgan...I'm not now. I'm not scared of you. I'm not lying to you...there's no reason- you have to believe-"

Seth didn't reply, but he stopped trying to push them apart, and they stood close, so close that Reid couldn't tell anymore whose shaking he was feeling. For a moment, it was all consuming, their shared fear and need, so much so that he feared losing himself in it once again...he barely held on to his train of thought, to what he needed to get out.

"I'm not insane" he whispered tearfully into black fabric, "I know what I'm saying. And I knew before, and I meant it then, too...I- I'm not asking anything, not trying to get you to do anything...I just need you to hear it...hear me...please..."

He closed his eyes, desperate, exhausted, half expecting Seth to call him insane again, but after a long moment of silence the man gave a small nod and Reid physically sagged in relief. He drew on all the strength he had left, pulling his chin up and looking straight at Seth, as clear-eyed and level as he could.

Slowly, he lifted a hand once more to touch Seth's cheek. If he couldn't see the truth in his eyes then maybe he would feel it...

The older man's face twitched and he looked like he would pull away again, but he didn't move, forcing himself to remain still it seemed. Reid felt pained and grateful for it at the same time.

With a deep breath, he spoke, saying all he knew, all he should have said long ago.

"I hated you."

Seth flinched but Reid kept going. "I did. For everything you put me through. For everything you took from me. I'm never going to forget that...I don't even know if it will ever stop hurting, or if I will ever stop feeling like I need to make it all stop-" Another flinch. He forced out the words, with all the conviction and fire he could muster. "This isn't denial, this isn't unconditional absolution...I'm trying to tell you that I see now that there is more to it, more sides, facets...that you're not to blame for all of it-"

At this Seth frowned, looking like he was going to interrupt but Reid quickly continued; he had to get it all out, clean the would so it could begin to heal. "No! It doesn't matter if you suddenly think otherwise. What do you think that is going to do for me? What do you think you're gonna fix? It's done. I'm broken- we're broken. I don't need someone to blame- I thought I did, but- I need someone- I need you to get me through this."

Seth stared at him, his onyx eyes shining like broken glass and spilled petrol, glassy and full of sharp pain. Reid grabbed him more tightly.

"You can't push me away," he shook his head, fear and desperation adding more and more ardor to his pleas, "Not now, not after you did everything you could to make me need you...you have what you always wanted; you can't suddenly change your own rules and decide that I'm insane for feeling and acting exactly the way you are. I don't need a reality check, Seth. This is real to me, whether it's crazy or not. It's real. And no matter what you do now I'm not going to simply walk out of here when it's all over and go home and forget all of this ever happened! Even if I wanted to...I can't! I need you and we both damn well know it!" He couldn't hold on to the anger and indignation that flickered in and out of his voice, anxiety and grief overshadowing it mercilessly. In the end, he was left staring up at Seth with blurry vision, voice shaking as he all but begged him to understand. "I need you to get through this...and I'll need you after! I was away from you...I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe...I was mad without you!" Seth flinched, a nerve struck.

"You wanna blame yourself? Fine, I blame myself, too. We're both guilty. What's the point in arguing? I know only one thing that's true, one thing that matters now. What we had...what you gave me, it was real. It's still real, I just couldn't handle that. But now...I think it's the only thing that can keep me going...I need you. I need you, and I don't know if its gonna be enough, but I know that if you push me away now, I won't- I just can't do it...not alone. You don't want absolution? Okay. You did this, you made me this. You don't get to push me away now, not when you're the only thing-"

His voice broke, emotion rendering him incomprehensible too soon. Reid desperately tried to blink away his tears, too muster more strength than he knew he had. He knew that objectively Seth held all the cards here...if he didn't want to listen, didn't want to see...he could just tie him up again, try to protect him and shut him out...

His shoulders were heaving, leaving him shaking, wrecked by sobs at the sheer horribleness of their situation. His head fell back again Seth's shoulder, wet lashes grazing his neck.

"I don't know what to tell you that will make you believe me," he whispered brokenly, "Please tell me what-"

Seth's hand came to rest on the side of his neck, solid, soothing and he shuddered, the touch too much to take. He flinched internally, still half expecting Seth to outright deny all of this, half afraid he would simply resort to patronizing him, seemingly giving in, again.

He pulled himself up in one last act of defying his own body, staring straight up at Seth, reading his expression anxiously. At first all he saw was pain, too chaotic and enveloping to be categorized...but then, a flicker, there, like hope, like doubt, like Seth wanted to believe him, wanted to believe he wasn't coerced, or crazy...

He grabbed Seth's face again without thinking, fingers digging into the man's rough jawline.

"Kiss me," he demanded, pleaded, "kiss me, please, I need you to. It's not enough to say you believe me...you need to mean it." He immediately felt the tension under his fingers and his insides turned cold, lips trembling. "Seth," he whispered, gaze steady, hard like wet stone, "I want you to kiss me. It doesn't mean I forgot, it doesn't make me a victim...I know I have a choice and I'm saying I need this. Show me you'll be there for me, like before...it's the only way you can help."

It was the only way to show Seth he meant this, the only way to make him begin to understand that if he wanted to salvage anything it had to be this, that part of their past the memory of which was now the sole source of Reid's strength.

Seth, tense, clearly tormented, stared down at him, shaking his head. "I will get you through this, Spencer...you don't have to-"

"No!" Spencer cried, nerves snapping, "No, stop it- stop, listen! It was real. Just as real as the pain, and the hurt...it kept me alive. You. Seth. My eyes are wide-open. I've seen the best and the worst of you, I know exactly who you are. Despite everything...you're also the one who risked his life for me, made me feel safe, made me laugh...who listened to me, held me through every nightmare...when I was scared and lonely, you built me up...you were my safe place, the ground under my feet." He breathed shakily, crying. "Please, you need...I need you to understand, to see the truth. If you shut me out...I c-can't... I can't do this without...you'll be keeping safe an empty shell-"

Seth's lips descended on his, cutting his feeble mumblings off with finality. Reid gasped, startled despite himself when Seth's passive hands suddenly landed at the back of his neck, gripping at his hair and pressing him closer with urgency. Relief washed through him a moment later and he grabbed Seth more tightly, returning the kiss, accepting it for what it was, honest, a confirmation. He would have known a lie then, in this, with certainty, would have felt any hesitation. But instead, he realized with a rush of frantic joy that Seth had finally understood, finally realized what he needed to do to truly help him.

Seth pulled back briefly, breath hot against Reid's face, drawing in air before pressing more, firm, short kisses to his lips. He deepened none of them, didn't for a second attempt anything more, and Reid had known he wouldn't, wouldn't be brought to cross that line now no matter how convincing he was - but it was enough, it was the answer he needed.

"Anything," Seth whispered against his cheek, voice rough, hoarse, "Anything you need."

Reid nodded, not caring that he was crying anymore, momentary relief making his head spin. There was so much wrong, so much broken, so much pain still in this horrible situation...but for a single moment, he felt like he had a tiny fraction of control back, a part of himself that might be worth saving...like there was a flicker of light at the end of a seemingly endless dark tunnel.

He pulled Seth back with him and they collapsed on the bed, weapons and restraints forgotten for the moment as they clung to each other as tightly as they could.

"It'll be okay," Seth rasped against his cheek, rough stubble scratching his skin.

Reid nodded, silent, eyes closed.

He didn't care anymore, not truly, not beyond this achievement. They might well die tomorrow, it might never get remotely better for either one of them. It could all change so much, get so much worse.

Maybe tomorrow was the day he realized he was crazy after all. Maybe Seth would change his mind again tomorrow.

But if so, if this was as okay as it was going to ever get again, he was willing to settle for it.

He kept his eyes shut as he let himself fall, finally allowing his body and mind the respite they needed desperately, if only for a little while. This time, he didn't fall into the cold void though; Seth warm smell and quick heartbeat were the background to his clouded dreams.

xxx

*Turn down the lights 

Turn down these voices 

Inside my head 

Lie down with me 

Tell me no lies 

Just hold me close 

And don't patronize me

Morning will come

And I'll do what's right 

Just give me till then

To give up this fight.

Here in the dark 

In these final hours I will lay down my heart*

*I'm so ugly, but that's okay, 

'cause so are you

Broke our mirrors 

Sunday morning

is everyday for all I care

And I'm not scared 

Light my candles in a daze

I like it - I'm not gonna crack 

I miss you - I'm not gonna crack 

I love you - I'm not gonna crack*

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x

x

Songs: Can't make you love me, Bon Iver, and Lithium by Nirvana. Listen to both, they're so beautiful :)

I have the next mini chapter almost ready so that's the good news I guess. Until then :)


	71. Chapter 71

Thanks for sticking with the A_M-Kelley, I heart you. Sorry this has become so infrequent.

xxx

xx

x

Reid let the world fall away, giving in to exhaustion. The warmth around him was comforting, lulling him in, pulling him deep into the shadowland between dreaming and waking.

~~

“Haven't seen you here in a long time.“

Spencer lifts his forehead from the cool surface of the wending machine and blinks at the unexpected presence to his right. It's a man standing there, his dark clothes and tan skin thrown in sharp relief against the backdrop of the pale corridor of the sanatorium. 

It takes a long moment before his preoccupied mind can drag up the memory of that face from somewhere in the back of his skull. 

“You were visiting your brother. He'd just been admitted... Richard- Richie.“

The man's brows rise slightly; maybe he's impressed, maybe just surprised, Spencer isn't sure. He only has memories of that face when it was tight with anger and pain. He looks different now, much taller and broader, not a boy anymore. His features have sharpened but his eyes are still the same.

“Didn't think you'd remember,“ the man says, stepping closer. 

It has been 6 years.

Spencer doesn’t point out that he has an eidetic memory. Instead he wonders how the other man recognized in him the 12-year-old boy he talked to for five minutes so long ago. It's the first time he's been back here since then, and he, too, is a man now, legally speaking at least.

“How's your brother?“ he asks instead, feeling little need for another preamble somehow.   
They are strangers, and yet they shared something that makes them kindred. They've seen the broken parts of each other that they both hide so well now that they are virtually invisible to the world.   
The man's mask slips slightly, pulling what is hidden behind his gaze into focus. Spencer isn't surprised by it but he takes it for an answer to his question.

“Been here ever since.“ the man answers unnecessarily. His mouth tightens only fractionally, in a nonchalant way that seems well practiced. “No improvement. He's bat shit crazy as they say.“

“I'm sorry.“

“Yeah.” A bitter smirk. “They say that, too.“

It isn't directed at him, that sudden glimpse of resentment, of anger, but it still makes something inside him tense up, like a cold finger digging into his spine. Spencer stands fidgeting, not knowing what to say to that, how to react. The hallway seems narrow suddenly, stuffy. He thinks about making an excuse to leave, suddenly feeling much less comfortable about this unexpected conversation. He should get back to his mother's room, deal with his own problems-

He's taken a step back before he even registers it, but the small movement it seems snaps the stranger out of his thoughts. He shakes his head, shakes off the threat of darkness in his eyes like a fly, looking startled by himself somehow. Regret flashes over his face, almost too quickly to see. 

He takes another step forward, arm coming up, and for a moment Spencer almost thinks he means to grab him. He doesn’t, of course, merely rests a hand on the vending machine behind them, redirecting his attention towards the candy bar that's frustratingly gotten stuck in it. 

“Milky Way bar, huh?” Warm eyes wink at him and there's nothing of that darkness in them anymore, nothing unsettling at all. They look like molten-chocolate if anything, like the candy Spencer has been trying to get to. “Hope that's not your breakfast, kid.”

Spencer huffs, defensive for the second time in under a minute, but this time it's not a bad feeling. He smiles back, infected by the twinkle in the man's eye. 

“I'm Spencer,” he says, surprising himself. 

The man's smile widens, revealing rows of perfect straight teeth. 

“Seth. Looks like I get to help you out this time, Spencer.” 

x

They are sitting in the cafeteria that belongs to the sanatorium, cups of cheap, steaming coffee in their hands.   
Spencer stares at the swirls of cream in his beverage, not even sure how he ended up where he is now, only knowing that he was talking to Seth, how it seemed so easy, so natural despite technically not knowing the man.   
He almost didn’t hesitate at all when Seth suggested they get coffee downstairs.   
His mom is sleeping anyways, he tells himself, and it's been so long since he felt he could talk to someone.  
Seth understands, that much is abundantly clear as he listens to him talk about his brother, his mental problems, the hardships that come with it. 

It should make him sad, the way thinking about his mother's illness usually makes him sad. Instead, he feels connected, consoled almost, in the knowledge that he is not alone after all.

“So what brings you back here?“ Seth asks, looking at him while taking a sip of black coffee. 

He still seems like the darkest object in the white-washed room, everything else fading next to him. Spencer doesn’t think it's just the clothes or the eyes, or the large tattoo on his neck even. There's an intensity about Seth that he's rarely seen in other people, that just inevitably pulls focus to him....or maybe it isn’t Seth so much as it is his own perspective...?

He blinks the thought away when he catches it, startled. 

Only Seth's waiting gaze focuses him on the posed question and successfully redirects his thoughts.

“My mother.” His fingers grip the cup more tightly. “She's gotten worse...She's been in and out of the hospital for the past few years but then my dad left and-” He looks down at his coffee, the familiar feeling of misery that was so blissfully absent for the past few minutes of distraction creeping back up on him. “I- I'm 18 now, so it was my choice to send her here.“

Guilt and shame coil at the bottom of his stomach, he lowers his head but lifts it back up in surprise when Seth takes his hand, gently untangling it from where it is shaking around fake porcelain. 

“It's for the best.” His eyes are so deep, his gaze so earnest that Spencer actually stills, doesn’t pull away from the contact the way he usually would. “I know it doesn’t feel like it -there will be a lot of days when it doesn’t, trust me. But it's best for them...and for us.“

The doctors told him as much but he only begins to believe it then, hearing it from Seth.

“I think...” Seth hasn’t let go of his hand, fingers squeezing his seemingly unconsciously, “...I would have gone down a bad road if I hadn't done what I did that day, left him behind. Don't get me wrong, I still did a lot of fucked up shit- 'cause I was fucked up...but I got the chance to straighten out and fly right, you know.“ His gaze is so intent now that Spencer feels exposed, feels like looking away, but he doesn’t, staring right back, mesmerized. “You did that, you know? You didn’t know it but you made up my mind. You were the first step for me.”

He looks at Spencer and his gaze holds so much, such intensity, that Spencer forgets to breathe. He can't fathom what his face might say right then, can't quite figure out why suddenly his blood is rushing through his ears. 

Either way, it is Seth who catches himself first, who lets go of his hand like he suddenly thinks he's overstepped his bounds.

“Shit, sorry...” he shakes his head, looking almost embarrassed. “...I guess I just meant to say... thank you. Really.” 

Spencer looks down, bashful, fingers ghosting over his skin where Seth touched it. 

“Well, you bought me coffee...” he manages to say, to smile even, doing his best to not let the sudden turmoil inside of him show. Seth was just thanking him, that's all. “Coffee's the perfect way to thank me,” he smiles.

Seth smiles back. “It's a start.”

x

It is only the start.

They meet again, almost every time that Spencer visits his mother from then on, he sees Seth. At first its only coincidences, or so he supposes at least...but soon they begin letting each other know when they'll next be there. 

They have coffee and talk. About their family members, their sorrows, then, about other things as well.   
Seth tells him that he works security. Free lance. It's not his dream job but it pays the rent. His dream is to have a bar someday, something of his own. To build a stable and happy life. Seth doesn’t look like the type to settle down and grow old in a small town but Spencer believes it when he says that that's what he wants for himself.   
He, in turn, tells Seth about his own plans, or lack thereof. About how he feels directionless with all the changes in his home life. About how he is thinking of getting a couple of college degrees and maybe going on to teach at a university.   
Seth half jokingly suggests that he become a psychiatrist - but they both know it'll never happen. He has enough of that at the sanatorium. 

So, he stays undecided for a long time, but it doesn’t seem as frightening anymore somehow with someone there to talk to, someone who's made a life for himself coming from similar circumstances. With Seth there, he can go through the sheer endless possibilities lying in front of him and look at them with something other than misplaced-guilt and anxious apprehension. 

Turns out, Seth is a first step for him, too.

Xxx

Seth meets his mother, once or twice, after she starts talking to Spencer again. He thinks she likes him, with all his charm and dry wit. Or maybe she just sees the way Spencer smiles when he sees Seth and she's glad that he isn’t alone anymore.

He never meets Richie, for reasons he can't quite figure out in the beginning. He asks about him often and Seth talks about him readily enough, but whenever the conversation turns to paying him a visit upstairs, Seth somehow manages to dodge the issue, to divert him. 

He thinks nothing of it at first, assumes Seth just is more private than he lets on. One day though, he asks one of the staff about Richard Gecko and the answer he gets is as chilling as it is insightful. They tell him about the breaks from reality, the violent attacks on nurses and doctors, discomfort in their eyes, and he doesn’t ask any question after.   
He understands then that Seth isn't trying to shield Richie, he's trying to protect Spencer.

He doesn’t bring it up again with Seth.

xxx

 

Winter has turned to spring on the day when Seth finds him sitting in his usual hallway in front of his mothers room, studying. It's a Sunday and the sanatorium's cafeteria is closed but Spencer isn’t surprised Seth has come to find him.

“Always got your nose in those books,” Seth smiles down at him fondly, muscular arms crossed in front of him. Spencer does his best not to stare at his bare forearms. The weather's still cold but Seth always seems to be running warmer than other people, like a furnace. 

“I came to see my mom but it turns out she has a group activity today,” he explains, smiling sheepishly, “Do you want to get coffee? The bus home won't be here till 5.”

“That's a lot of coffees, Spencer,” Seth laughs, glancing at his watch before reaching out and easily pulling him to his feet. “It's barely 2.”

Spencer steadies himself on Seth's arm. He shrugs, cheeks slightly red in what he tells himself is embarrassment, “It's Sunday.”

“Well, let's go then. We have time and there's a really good café a little out of the way I sometimes go to. They have pancakes in case you forgot to eat today, too.” 

He winks and Spencer smacks his arm lightly, shaking his head. Seth knows him too well. He can't begin to describe how much he likes it.

They leave the sanatorium and walk to the parking lot. Spencer is about to ask what kind of car Seth has, it's never come up, when Seth stops in front of a black motorcycle. 

He blinks, waiting for Seth to laugh and tell him he's joking, that he doesn’t plan on making him get on a death machine like that. 

Seth does laugh, but it's obviously because of his expression. 

He grabs the helmet stored on the back of the motorcycle and puts it on Spencer's head before he can argue. Swiftly and carefully, he leans in and adjusts it so that it's in the right position.

“Don't worry, Spencer, you’re safe with me.” 

His hands are warm on Spencer's skin as he closes the clasp under his chin and Spencer can't do anything but nod, throat dry, heat rising to his cheeks unbidden. 

He ends up on the back of the bike, and Seth starts the motor, before he can think up the words to protest. Seth pushes down on the gas and Spencer throws his arms around him with a startled yelp, clinging on for dear life as they speed away and onto the highway. 

Later, while they are sitting in the little café on the outskirts of the city having pancakes, Spencer insists that all he remembers of the trip his fearing for his life. What he leaves out is the feeling of Seth's back pressed against his chest, the abdominal muscles rippling under his hands, and the smell of aftershave in his nose that still makes his knees go weak. 

By the time they decide to drive back, the sun is fast setting. Spencer glances at Seth's watch anxiously, completely having forgotten to keep the bus in mind. He hurries back to the motorcycle, nearly jumping up and down next to it in his impatience and Seth just shakes his head in amusement.   
“If you wanted me to show you just how fast this baby can go, all you had to do was ask.” He outright laughs when Spencer grows pale, but it's easy enough for him to tug the younger man back over to the bike.   
They ride fast over the highway, through the cooling desert around them. The sun is streaking the dust and Spencer's hair red, kissing them goodbye on its way beyond the horizon. Spencer is so lost in the feel of the wind in his hair and Seth's smell surrounding him that he doesn’t realize they’ve arrived at the bus station until Seth brings them to a complete and sudden stop.

It's almost exactly five, though he can't see the bus anywhere yet. Darkness has fallen and they are the only people on the street. Spencer takes off the helmet and hands it back to Seth who sets it down on the bike.   
“Thanks,” he says quietly, and then follows it with nothing, suddenly not knowing what to say. 

He wants to tell Seth how much he enjoyed the afternoon, what a nice time he had, but somehow he's too afraid to, afraid to overstep an invisible boundary, afraid to go too far and make Seth take a step away from him.   
It was just coffee, the way they've done so many times before. Still, for some reason he feels like he's at a crossroads now, like a step in any direction, much like no step at all, could have tremendous consequences.

“Seth, I-” he stammers, words tangled in his mouth, fiddling with an errant strand of hair by his face. And he knows already then that he'll never finish that sentence, never take that step, and disappointment rushes through him in the same second that Seth silently reaches out to cup his jaw, pull him in, and kiss him.  
Everything stops for the fraction of a second then, the world fading out, and he feels nothing except the warmth of Seth's hand on his skin, the gentle pressure of his lips against his. His heart jumps into his throat, blood rushing though his ears and drowning out everything else. 

Before he can fully process what's happening, Seth has pulled away and is looking down at him with a smile that's somewhere between fond and suffering. “If you're gonna punch me in the face for that, now's the time. Your bus is here.”

The bus is there indeed, giant flashlights turning the night back into day, and Spencer hasn’t even noticed until then. The motor is running, the driver certainly impatient.

Spencer doesn’t take his eyes off Seth, off his beautiful features, his deep, knowing eyes. He steps up to Seth and wraps both hands around the man's face, pulling him back down for another kiss. This one isn’t brief, and it doesn’t stay light for long. Spencer's never kissed a man before but he falls against Seth in an instant fit, their lips and bodies jotting together in perfect symbiosis. Seth wraps one arm around his back and buries the other in his hair, pulling just slightly in a way that make Spencer's knees quiver. 

The bus driver honks and Seth laughs into his mouth. “Can't miss this bus, remember?”

Spencer shakes his head, breathing in, “That was then. This is now.”

~~

Reid stirred, the sliver of a smile moving his pale lips as he shifted closer to the man embracing him securely. Warm, calloused fingers carded through his hair lightly, making him wonder if he was awake or dreaming. He curled up, not wanting the light comfort he felt to dissipate, wanting to stay at peace, to hold on to the warm feeling of love filling his consciousness.

There was something, waiting, at the the edge of it, dark, cold, threatening, but he wasn't ready to face it yet, to think about anything that wasn't comforting.  
He had no energy left for it. The fingers traced the curve of his cheek coming away wet, and Seth hummed something up in the clouds above his head, soothing. Reid kept his eyes closed, and himself closer. Seth was comfort, even now, when there seemed to be nothing else. Seth was solid, constant. 

“I would have loved you,” he breathed, the memory of his dream warming his insides, “...any way how.”

He held on to this truth, this solace, letting everything else fall away.

xxx

Seth lay still in the darkness of the windowless room, Spencer pressed close to his side. He didn't try to think, or to block out thoughts, too overwhelmed by his whirling emotions to attempt any kind of control over them.   
Spencer was talking in his half-waking state, saying things that felt like daggers being twisted in his chest, but he didn't wake him, let himself listen to the ghosts of lives that could probably never have been, but that he craved like oxygen.  
It was impossible not to get sucked in.

He listened, pictured those phantasms, held on to them instead of focusing on the bone-rattling anxiety left in him from the events of the day. He'd nearly lost Spencer, more than once, and even now he wasn't sure if some part of him had maybe been permanently shattered for the sake of coping with the situation, or if the young man would regain it after this was over.  
He couldn’t think about it anymore, not again -his own trauma ran deeper than he would have liked to ever admit and he needed to recuperate desperately, needed to not be strong for just a little while.   
There was nothing to ponder anymore anyway, he knew. Tomorrow he would get up and be strong for both of them again, and he would do whatever he thought would get Spencer through this the best way. Whatever.   
If Spencer needed him to be the man he'd almost managed to be during his amnesia, he'd try -as much as he could. The sick feeling of forcing himself on the young man hadn’t dissipated but he also had to admit that Spencer was right, kissing him wouldn’t break Spencer any more than it already had -all it might do was help him in some way. He had seen clearly tonight that, as crazy as it was, Spencer actually believed what he'd told him, that he wasn't trying to bring them closer to reach some other goal. He actually felt he needed him....Seth thought back to those few days he had lost Spencer back in Mexico, how he had found him....  
He pushed away the ill, guilty feeling that accompanied those thoughts. He had no room or use for self-loathing now. Spencer was right; he had made him this dependent, had made him need him. He couldn’t push him away if only a tiny part of the young man felt like Seth's presence might alleviate his suffering.  
He wouldn’t. 

In the morning, he would do what he had to, and maybe along the line, Spencer would come to his senses, or maybe he wouldn’t....either way he'd get him through this.

For now though, for just this little while in the darkness, he allowed himself to wallow in the bittersweet feeling Spencer's sleepy mumblings aroused in him, to dwell on the memory of a time when he knew Spencer had been sure he loved him, when they'd been happy.

Who knew how much opportunity he'd still have to remember.

Humming a familiar tune that had Spencer sigh in contentment, he stared into the darkness and thought of what they might have been.

~I'll sing it one last time for you  
Then we really have to go  
You've been the only thing that's right  
In all I've done  
And I can barely look at you  
But every single time I do  
I know we'd make it anywhere  
Away from here~

x

Song by Snow Patrol, Run. Melodrama by me.


	72. Chapter 72

Update: Nope, not sick of the beach yet -lucky for you this was pretty much done before I left and just needed some editing. So here it is.

One short note on the last chapter. Some people were saying that, Seth's memory of their meeting when he was younger must have really happened since this is Spencer's dream/fantasy. I'd just like to point out that, sure, it might very well be taken as such, but it could also simply mean that Spencer's deteriorating mentally. Seth will have told him the story of 'how they met' a lot of times while they were in Mexico, simply because it is very important to Seth, and Spencer, having no memory, will have believed him. Him thinking this know could simply mean that he's losing touch with reality for the sake of comfort, or it could just have been a fantasy of him wishing it had happened that way.

Any version can be right, you just picture whatever works best for you -I always maintained that it doesn't matter if they actually met, because the end result is really the same. SO much for that, now please enjoy the chapter and I will enjoy the beautiful day by the ocean.

TTFN!

xx

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Seth woke to the sound of someone rapping on the room's door.

His eyes flew open with a start, tension immediately shooting through him and he simultaneously grabbed for a gun that wasn't under his pillow and tightened his hold around Spencer.

It took a second for him to remember that the door was locked, that they were relatively safe.

He took a deep breath, forcefully calming himself. It wasn't easy in the face of all that came to mind about the day before.

Vic. Don. Morgan. Eddie.

Spencer.

He looked down at the young man next to him who hadn't stirred despite the sound, exhaustion and the remains of drugs in his system keeping him asleep for the time being. Seth stomach churned at the sight of paler skin and darker bruises -he looked away quickly.

He knew he had to stick to keeping his mind off anything else that had happened yesterday, anything that wasn't productive to getting this day over with.

There was another rap at the door, louder, more insistent, and Seth took a deep breath, steeling himself. Time to follow through. Time to be Seth Gecko.

Carefully, he disentangled himself, getting up from the bed and getting his knife, more careful to close the drawer behind him this time, before opening the door. A young man he had seen the day before on the premises looked at him nervously when confronted with a scowl.

"What?" he snapped, channeling his emotions into aggression; it was easier than he would have liked, welling up like blood from a cut in association with the Cabots.

"I'm sposed to tell you that the meeting is in an hour. Mr. Cabot said to make sure you know to be on time."

"Tell Mr. Cabot to go fuck himself," Seth snarled, rolling his eyes in annoyance when the kid looked at him nervously, as though he was actually considering it.

"Oh -fuck's sake," Seth rubbed his eyes, groaning, "I'll be there. Now get lost."

He closed the door before the man had a chance to answer.

The meeting. Shit. Seeing Eddie, Vic and a bunch of other low life criminals was the last thing on his list of priorities -but of course he had no choice in the matter.

Half an hour. He considered showering, but then made his way back over to the bed instead.

Spencer blinked when Seth sat down on the mattress, gazing up at him from under heavy eyelashes. Seth looked at him silently for a moment, tense despite his convictions from the night before...he was half expecting Spencer to have come to his senses over night...to flinch away from him in renewed resentment and disgust.

Spencer, however, didn't move at all, merely gazing up at him with a nervous expression that made him look much paler and younger than he already was. Seth sighed. It wasn't hard for him to see that nothing had changed, that Spencer's apprehension was coming from the fear that Seth might have changed his mind overnight, and from their situation, nothing else.

He had to take a moment to actively remind himself that this was good, for the best really, that no how matter how against his instincts this was, how incredibly disturbing, Spencer had somehow found a way to block out what had made him most unstable, and to be reasonably calm and collected instead of panicked or suicidal or catatonic.

It was what would get him through this.

Pulling himself together, Seth reached out to take Spencer's hand, turning his palm upward to look over the cut there. It was as much necessary as it was a test of Spencer's sensibilities over all.

Spencer barely waited for him to inspect the bandage before curling his fingers around Seth's, reciprocating the light touch, answering his silent question.

He pulled Seth's hand up, pressing it against his cheek and Seth automatically let it curve around the familiar shape of his face, still, bleary eyed as his eyes kept being drawn back to the bruises under his finger tips.

"That was one of Cabot's boys at the door," he made himself say, distracting himself, "I have to be down in the warehouse in half an hour."

Spencer didn't answer, still as he took in the information but Seth could still feel the tension returning to his limbs. He rubbed his thumb over a sharp cheekbone automatically, soothingly. Damnit, he should have just left, shouldn't have said anything. If he could just stay at ease for a minute longer...

It was no use. Spencer sat up, anxiety bubbling to the surface.

"What if they attack you again?" he asked, nearly toneless, fear suddenly shining brightly in his eyes.

Not a thought of himself still.

"They won't," Seth said quickly, "I'm armed and prepared, and there are more people there. Joe won't let this fight interfere with his business anymore."

He put on his best look of confidence and waited for Spencer to nod.

"Half an hour?" The young man shifted as though to get up, wincing in obvious discomfort at the movement. Seth stared at a spot past his shoulder, past the evidence of his guilt etched into his skin.

"How much pain are you in?" he asked, throat dry, failing at keeping his voice entirely level.

Spencer's eyes flickered over his face, then he shook his head. "I'm fine," he said quietly, absently dabbing at the discoloration around his left eye.

Seth pulled his hand away from it. "Go take a shower. I have time to change the bandages."

He kept his eyes just averted, not wanting to see the immediate acquiescence he expected, or, much worse, any possible signs of gratefulness. That would simply be too much.

Spencer showered briefly and Seth sat alone on the bed, listening to the sound of running water and doing his utmost not to think about the red that would be gathering at Spencer's feet, or the fact that he hadn't even bothered to close the door.

His own shower took less than a minute and he was dressed and ready to go in record time. As he finished putting his gun into the back of his pants, his eyes were drawn back to Spencer who was sitting at the edge of the bed, seeming even more fidgety and unnerved.

"I'll be fine," he said again but the hoped for result didn't come. Spencer kept fiddling with the fresh bandages Seth had put on his palm and wrists until the older man walked over to him and stilled his hand once more, insistent.

"What is it?" Seth asked through the tension filling the air.

"What will you..." Spencer took a shaky breath, eyes flickering up to meet Seth's just barely, "...I mean will I-"

He faltered but Seth understood then, eyes falling on the restraints still adorning the bed frame. His stomach coiled in knots. Of course. He had to, couldn't trust that Spencer would keep himself safe...

He knelt down in front of the bed, squeezing Spencer's hand, knowing it was weakness but unable to stop himself.

"Spencer, look at me," he said firmly, calmly, "I said I believe you and I do. But...I just can't risk-" He bit his lip, forcing out his next words, "For the times I'm gone, I'm going to tie you up. To be sure you're safe," he added quickly, wanting to kick himself for it. What was the point in sugarcoating this? It was what it was.

He thought Spencer would pull his hands out of his grasp when more anxiety rippled over the young man's features, but he only shook his head. "No, I...I know but...let me come with you."

Seth blinked, surprised for a second before he realized he should have expected this, instead of resistance. It was in accordance with this new attachment that was so similar to how Spencer had acted when he'd first lost his memory. He wasn't refusing; he was asking.

He swallowed, hard.

"That's not a good idea," he finally managed to say, as steady as possible.

Spencer flinched and Seth swiftly reached up and pushed an errant lock behind Spencer's ear, maintaining their contact to calm him. "Stay. I won't be long and you'll be safer here."

"No."

Seth blinked, surprised at the sudden, firm response.

Spencer shook his head, anxious, "No, I'm safe with you."

The way Spencer was looking at him as he said this, so convinced and yet so scared and vulnerable was heartbreaking. Seth found himself nodding before he knew what he was doing.

"Yes," he said, pulling Spencer to his feet carefully, "you're right. You'll be safer with me."

Maybe, he managed to tell himself, it really was for the better, keeping a close eye on Spencer. It would keep them both calmer that was for sure. Maybe, the decision to say yes wasn't all due to the way he had just looked at him.

xx

~I woke up in a dream today 

To the cold of the static 

And put my cold feet on the floor 

Forgot all about yesterday 

Remembering 

I'm pretending 

To be where I'm not anymore

A little taste of hypocrisy 

And I'm left in the wake 

Of the mistake slow to react 

Even though you're so close to me 

You're still so distant 

And I can't bring you back

It's true the way I feel 

Was promised by your face 

The sound of your voice 

Painted on my memories 

Even if you're not with me

I'm with you~

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

xxx

With you, Linkin Park.

More soon-ish. Please review!


	73. Chapter 73

Larry looked up as the door to the warehouse creaked open once again, bringing into view Seth Gecko. He was the fourth to arrive after him, the Cabots and, some rat-faced, skinny guy.

Larry frowned, about to get up, greet his old associate, and ask him why he hadn’t come to meet him the night before to give his explanation- when his eyes fell on the person entering the warehouse behind Seth.

His eyes widened. 

It was the kid. The hostage. Walking free like it was nothing, as though he hadn’t been tied to a bed the last time Larry had seen him. 

He wasn’t alone in his surprise. Towards the front of the room, Joe cursed under his breath and turned in Seth's direction, scowling, mirrored by Eddie. 

Seth, wearing his typical stoic, unreadable expression walked closer and the young man followed without prompt, staying close by the criminal's side while nervously looking over the people in the room. 

Joe and Eddie met him half way to the sitting area, not far from where Larry was standing.  
“What the actual fuck, Seth?” he heard Eddie hiss, venom spewing from his eyes. 

The hostage visibly tensed but Seth didn't even look phased, standing his ground, unimpressed.

“I told you I ain’t leaving him alone. What are you worried about, Joe?” he challenged coolly, “You know he's not going anywhere near the cops after this.”

For a moment it looked like Joe was seriously considering ripping the man's head off for his insolence, then though he merely scowled, turning away, “Tell him to keep his mouth shut.”

With that, his attention was back on the black board he had been writing on. Eddie graced both men with a long dirty look before also turning away to talk to the rat-faced man. 

This left Larry.

He watched for another moment as Seth exchanged a silent glance with the young man behind him, too quick to decipher...clearly a message of sorts. The kid nodded imperceptibly, seeming to shift a tiny step closer towards Seth. 

Larry watched them with furrowed brows, wondering what was going on with the two of them, why this kid was here and what exactly his situation was. For a hostage held against his will, he didn’t look like he was dying to make a run for it, that was for sure. Then again, Seth would have likely threatened him to stay put and judging by the amount of bruising visible on the kid's body, he knew to listen by now.  
Still the question remained, what the hell was going on?

He walked over to Seth, greeting him with a raised eyebrow when the ex-con looked in his direction.  
“So you stood me up last night,” Larry opened the conversation, challenging but not particularly cross yet, “Had anything better to do in your room?”

“Anyone more likely.” 

That was someone else's answer. 

Larry saw the flicker of rage rippling over Seth's face as he turned to face the man who had spoken.   
Mr. Blonde was standing behind them, having entered the warehouse unnoticed with another man. He was grinning like he'd made a terrific joke, wiggling one eyebrow at Seth, before winking at the kid who visibly flinched, taking half a step back. Seth didn't react, eyes pinned on Vic in what could only be interpreted as a sharp warning.

For a long moment, both men stared at each other silently, the tension palpable, then Mr. Blonde lifted both hands in mock-surrender, grinning boyishly. “Geez, Mr. Black, relax, alright? If you can't take a fucking joke what can you take?”  
He laughed along with the man next to him, then moved past them both to the sitting area. 

Larry registered the way the hostage moved away, clearly fearful, as he walked past, remembering every detail of the men's interactions. 

The door opened again then, before anyone could say anything else and two more men were led in by one of Joe's lackeys. That made three more strangers to be assessed. One of them was a tall, dark-haired guy with a massive forehead and a slightly unsettling gaze, then there was an old man with a weathered face who dispassionately took a seat instead of acknowledging anyone, and lastly, there was a young man, with reddish blond hair that fell in unruly bangs into his eyes. He was lean if not wiry, but confident in his stride as he took his seat and casually lit a cigarette. Larry's eyes stayed on the last man where he slouched in the front row, momentarily distracted from his previous train of thought -until Joe cleared his throat to get all of their attention. 

The men moved to sit down, Seth ushering the kid into the last row with determination, while the other men seemed less concerned about where to sit. Larry took a seat next to Seth, right behind the smoking guy. He pulled his attention over to Joe. The meeting was about to begin.

Xxx

Meanwhile elsewhere:

Agent Prentiss stormed into the BAU's field office, wide eyed and breathless, making everyone present jump. 

“They've found Morgan.”


	74. Chapter 74

Sorry it took so Long!

Text passages taken from the movie, I don't own these, Tarantino does.

Xxx

The BAU team had flown to Los Angeles the second news about Morgan's reappearance there had reached them. They raced from the airport to the local hospital, praying that they would not end up staring at their leader on a table in the morgue. The local police force greeted them at the entrance, already alerted to their arrival but the team barely took the time to get directions from them before storming past.  
Garcia burst into the room Morgan was in first, tears already streaming down her face. She stopped in the door minutely, a loud sob escaping her as she stared into the room, then she broke into a run, practically throwing herself onto the body that lay on the bed by the wall.

“DEREK!!”

xxx

“Alright, everybody, pipe down, let's get to business.” Joe Cabot turned to face the men gathered on te chairs in front of his blackboard, giving them a stern look, “You all know why you're here. We're doing a job, and it's a big one- all of you are experienced professionals, and to get this job right I'ma need all of yous skills. The fallout is easily six figures each, enough to settle us all for a long time, if not for good.” 

The gangster boss took a moment to wait out the rumbles of appreciation coming from the group, before signalling for them to be quiet again.

“Alright, before we begin, a word on professionalism: With the exception of Eddie and myself, whom you already know, we're going to be using aliases on this job. Under no circumstances do I want any one of you to relate to each other by your Christian names, and I don't want any talk about yourself personally. That includes where you been, your wife's name, where you might've done time, or maybe a bank you robbed in St. Petersburg. All I want you guys to talk about, if you have to, is what you're going to do. That should do it. Here are your names,” he pointed at each man individually as he named them, “...Mr. Brown, Mr. Orange, Mr. Blonde, Mr. Blue, Mr. White, Mr. Black, and Mr. Pink.”

Reid sat next to Seth, only half listening to Cabot's descriptions and the names he was giving out. He was far too distracted by thoughts of what had happened between him and Seth, and Morgan , and the Cabots, and Vic, to really pay attention. His eyes kept flickering through the room anxiously while he half expected someone to jump them at any second. The thought made him no less fearful than it had an hour ago; his fear for Seth had not been a fleeting incident of temporary insanity, but rather a lasting one, it seemed. It was there, alive and kicking, making him feel tense and nauseous. He couldn't shake it, as hard as he tried, as hard as he tried to return to his state of apathy....all he could focus on was Vic, Eddie...and that they were both liable to attack Seth....They had the upper hand here. And worse, he knew nothing of these other men except that they were criminals, murderers too most likely. 

'It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter.' 

It wasn't working. He could repeat over and over in his head that he didn't even care about living anymore, and that he wouldn't have to grieve long for Seth if he was killed bacause that would be his end as well, or that Morgan would likely never know if he was actually alive or not- 

They'd gotten to him, Morgan and Seth both, cracked open his protective shell of apathy. Now he couldnt turn it off. Worse, feeling again made him feel sick with himself for even trying to, for wanting to opt out like that instead of fighting to see his mother and family and give them peace, instead of standing with Seth when he had always stood with him.

'No way out this time, only one way throught,' he thought. He had no idea if he could do it, even if circumstances and these people let him, but there was no option now but to try.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when next to him Seth tensed imperceptively. He looked up to find that everybody had turned to stare at him. He flinched, tensing all over. 

“Look, all I wanna know,” the rat-face man from the front row said, for what sounded like at least the second time, “is who he is.” He pointed at Reid, face pinched. “Everybody's got a name, everybody's got a job -what is he doing sitting here and listening in if he's not part of this crew?”

He sounded suspicious, on edge, and the rest of the men in the room mirrored this.  
Seth shifted, clearly about to speak, but Cabot interrupted him sourly. 

“I said to mind your own goddamn business, Mr. Pink. He's none of your concern.”

Mr. Pink frowned, defensive, “Jesus Christ, Joe, no need to get so bent out of shape, I'm merely asking what we all probably wanna know-”

“Leave it,” Eddie fell in, dark-faced, but Mr. Pink didn't seem to notice them men's growing tension. 

“So, what? I'm supposed to work with a group of total strangers, and just believe that they are trustworthy, except one of them doesn't even have a moniker or a job description? Well, I'm sorry but that's just a little-”

“HEY!” Joe barked, making Pink jump, “Who's job is what is nobody's problem but mine, you got that? Now listen up, Mr. Pink. There's two ways you can go on this job: my way or the highway! Got that?! Now what's it gonna be, Mr. Pink?”  
He looked at the younger man challengingly and finally Pink crumbled under his stare.  
“Fine, Joe, whatever- let's move on.”

Joe growled at him, angry, “I'll move on when I feel like it... All you guys got the goddamn message?... I'm so goddamn mad, hollering at you guys I can hardly talk. God damnit. Let's go to work already.”  
And with that it was done. Joe went on to talk about details of the plan but again Reid barely heard any of it, too distracted still by that tense situatiton and how it had almost escalated. He glanced at Seth who was sitting there, back straight and stony faced, listening to Cabot and seemingly not even a bit intimidated. He on earth was he planning on getting them out of here in one piece if these were there circumstances, if everybody was agaisnt them, suspicious of them, from the getgo?  
There was no way to ask him then, probably no point in asking later, not with the way Seth was, the way he handled things....all that Reid could do was sit and nurse his anxiety.  
Xxx

“Oh my god, Derek, you scared me so much! And you look horrible! What did they ever do to you, my baby?! Never, never do that again, you hear me?!” 

Morgan flinched when Garcia practically shrieked in his ear for the dozenth time in five minutes. He wasn't getting a word in edgewise over everybody's cries of joy and dismay and he was starting to grow impatient. His wounds could be cooed over later. They had no time to lose.

“I promise I'm fine, guys,” he gently dislodged Garcia in order to sit up properly, hiding a wince when his body protested. “But we have no time to lose. We need to do something about Cabot and quickly. I don't know how much longer he is going to keep Reid alive.”

He had managed to tell them the outlines of what had happened at least, but there was still so much they needed to know before they could think of a plan to save Reid. “We need to figure out where Cabot has his compound, and then we need to figure out how to get in and out undetected.”

“We will, Morgan,” Rossi assured patting his shoulder, “We just want to make sure you're alright. Are you sure that you don't want-”  
“I'm fine,” Morgan all but snapped, immediately regretting it. “I’m fine,” he repeated, calmer. “I just want him out of there as quick as possible. He's in bad shape.”

They all winced and Garcia looked like she might cry again, but then she pulled herself together and nodded, getting up. “I'm going to start working my magic to locate them. Just give me a minute.”

She tightly hugged Morgan again, making his ribs ache, then got up to wobble out the door -only to be stopped short by a middle aged man in a police uniform who had appeared in the door. “That won't be necessary, miss,” he said to their surprise, “We already have several files on Joe Cabot and his organization, and we have eyes on him at this moment. We know exactly where he is.”

“That was fast,” Prentiss huffed, baffled, but the man just shook his head. “No, m'am. This operation has been going on since long before you got here. We have been trying to pin Cabot and his associates for various crimes for years now. There is a whole unit dedicated to it -and you're looking at it's chief. Detective Gordon Masters.”

“Well, I'm glad to hear that, Detective,” Rossi stood and walked up to the man to shake his hand, “We should have figured, but this is going to save us a lot of work.”

“Indeed,” Gordon nodded, “If you accompany me to the station, my people and I will fill you in on everything you need to know about the operation.”

“We can't lose time, Detective,” JJ shook her head urgently, “One of our agents is being held hostage by Cabot and we don't know how much time he has.”

“Well, rushing things will only get your man killed I'm afraid,” Gordon countered somberly, “You'll see what I mean when we show you Cabot's set-up. It's all under video surveillance and I am telling you this, even if there was a chance of getting in there and extracting your man without him being killed first -you wouldn’t wanna take the risk.”

JJ paled, shaking her head to protest but Morgan stopped her short, “He's right, JJ. I want nothing more than to rush in there, because I know that the clock is ticking....but I've seen Cabot's set up. They'll kill Reid they second they see us coming, or they'll take him hostage or take him away....we can't risk that. We need to learn everything there is to learn about his set-up first, so we can work around it, get in unseen. We need to make sure Reid stays safe.”

The way he said it, the hitch in his voice, the burning in his eyes, had everybody fall silent. Morgan hadn’t told them much aside from the most basic information, but looking at him now they knew it had to have been bad. 

“Yes, but Morgan....” Emily shook her head, clearly just as anxious as he but hiding it better, “You escaped. They'll know you went to the police if nothing else, they'll be expecting searches, busts, retaliation....they'll be moving Reid anyway, maybe even- shouldn't we-?”

“No.” Morgan shook his head, leading everybody to look at him in surprise. “No. They don't know I've escaped. They think I'm dead.”

With that piece of information everybody was really staring at him in shock.

“What?” JJ asked, “But how-?”

xxx

“Seth.”

Larry walked up to his old colleague and his presumed hostage, making the latter tense and the former lift a black eyebrow. Everybody around them was getting up and ready to walk out, having been given minor jobs to attend to and Joe was standing by the door, talking to his son and the gangly man dubbed Mr. Orange. 

“Code names, Mr. White. Didn't you hear the speech just now?” Seth said cynically, but without any real humor in his voice. He sounded more pissed off at Joe than anything else. 

“Right. Mr. Black.” Larry shrugged, unimpressed. He wasn't into that grade school bullshit name calling but if that was what it would take for Joe to run this operation smoothly, he couldn’t care less. For six figures he'd let the man call him all kinds of things. 

“So, my first big assignment is to go stake out the bank,” he told Seth, “...see where all the exits are and when the guards change shifts. Wanna come? I could use some back up.”

He didn't need help really -but he was starting to get really curious about Seth's deal here, especially after still not having been told the kid's role in this operation. Cabot's refusal to answer Mr. Pink was highly suspicious. He finally wanted Seth to tell him what was what. 

Seth seemed to consider it for a moment before his eyes flickered to the kid for a second, and a shadow flashed over his features. 

“Not this time,” he shook his head, “I'm sure Joe wants me looking at the blueprints of the safe. Without Richie here I'm the closest thing he has to an expert.”

It felt like a excuse with the added effect of making Larry want to ask about the whereabouts of Seth's brother. But he stopped himself from mentioning either. Seth didn’t want to leave the kid that much was obvious. He could wait for his answers until he was back from his stake out. But only until then.  
“Right, we'll talk tonight then,” he said, leaving no doubt as to the fact that it was a deadline if Seth wanted to stay in his good graces. Seth nodded, clearly not caring past the fact that he wasn’t being asked to leave again.  
He turned towards the kid, taking him by the arm to steer him towards the door. “I'll see you tonight then. Word of advice. Don't ask Mr. Blonde to join your stake out. Man's a fucking psycho.”

“So I've gathered,” Larry chuckled, “No worries I got someone else in mind.”

xxx  
“He let you live?!“  
Rossi's shocked question only expressed what everybody on the team was clearly thinking. “That makes no sense, Derek. Why would Gecko do that?”

Morgan sat on his bed, quiet, face closed off and somber. He seemed to struggle for words, then finally shook his head, “It's hard to explain- I will but right now you don't have the time, you need to get to the station. All I can tell you is you need to trust me on this. He let me go and he won't tell them I'm alive. He wants Reid alive under any circumstance and them finding out he has any connection to the bureau is the last thing he wants.”

He sighed miserably when he saw the confused, disturbed faces of his co-workers. 

“Guys, we don't have time for this. Gecko is obsessed with Reid. He wants him alive, no matter what, that is all that's important right now, it will buy us some time but not much. Cabot is planning something big and Gecko will be part of it. If anything goes wrong there- if Gecko dies, if Reid gets in the crossfire....we need to get him out before that goes down. We just need to find out what Cabot is planning-”

“We already know that, Agent Morgan,” Detective Gordon interrupted, “I was going to tell your colleagues at the station but we have eyes on all of Cabot's operations, especially this newest one. We are hoping it will be the one we nail him on.”

“What?! No-” Morgan shook his head, immediately scared, “Saving Reid has to come first- who cares if Cabot-”

“Agent Morgan,” Gordon raised his hands, placating, “I assure you we will do everything we can to be mindful of this change of the situation. We will not proceed with any actions if it is going to endanger Agent Reid.”

“How would you even know?!” Morgan argued, more and more upset. Rossi put a calming hand on his shoulder. “Staring at a building from the outside doesn't mean you know what's going on on the inside, does it!?”

“That is true,” Gordon nodded calmly, “which is why we installed an undercover agent into Cabot's operation weeks ago. He is part of the scheduled heist and he will be our eyes and ears on the inside during this operation.”

“What?” Morgan stared, shocked, “Who?”

xxx

"Mr. Orange!" 

The gangly young man in the leather jacket turned around slowly, one eyebrow slightly raised. 

“Yes?” 

Mr. White walked up to him, clasping his shoulder jovially. “You look like you wanna help an old dog scope out a big bank. How about it, kiddo, you game?”

Mr. Orange smiled. “Definitely.”


	75. Chapter 75

“He's what?!“ Freddy Newendyke spat into his phone, half flabbergasted, half outraged, “Are you kidding me, man?“ 

It was week three of his little undercover stunt, day two since he had met all of the men Cabot had recruited for the planned diamond heist. He'd been hanging out at his fake apartment, playing with is fake wedding ring, waiting for the crime boss to call him and let him know where he was needed today, when his handler at the LAPD had called.   
Unscheduled.   
This alone was reason to be edgy. On missions like these, they generally tried to avoid too much contact. He knew his handler wouldn't want to risk anything, especially now that Freddy was actively involved in the gangsters' operation; they might be close by or watching him, one never knew. It wouldn't do to blow his cover.   
So, he'd been confused if not unnerved by this call....until he started listening to what his handler was telling him.

“AN FBI AGENT?!“ He had to force himself to calm down, to not scream into the phone, too risky, way too risky, but he just couldn't believe what he was hearing. “What do you mean 'unexpected', Luis?! We had everything scoped out, we know everything there is to know about this operation...the only wild cards are the men Cabot hired. But one of our guys?! What is he doing there? Who is it? How could we have been blindsided like this? The hell, man?“

Even wracking his brain he couldn't fathom who could have screwed up like this, let him walk unprepared into such a dangerous environment where his survival and the survival of the operation depended on him being in perfect control all the time. He hadn’t had the slightest clue that there was another cop present yesterday...obviously he had been undercover as well. But that man could have screwed up at any second, who knew what kind of training he had, how good his nerves were....he could have brought himself and Freddy down with just one tiny misstep.

“Calm down, Freddy, I'm trying to talk to ya-“

“Well, it would have been nice to have this chat before you let me walk into a minefield without a freaking map, Luis! If there was going to be another guy I would have wanted to talk to him first, check him out, make sure we're on the same level- who the hell authorized this anyway?! Fucking feds sticking their nose in everything, we have this under control, Luis. I got this. I got them wrapped around my little finger. I don't need help.“

He could have gone on, probably would have kept venting his anger, riling himself up more and more as he was prone to do, but his handler interrupted him.

“He's not help, Freddy. No one sent him.“ 

That finally gave Freddy pause. ”What do you mean?“

Luis sighed, “You better sit down for this, man, it's one long, messed up story.“

xxx

Freddy knew he needed to stop staring. 

This was Cabot's house, he had to assume he was under constant surveillance even if currently there were only three other people in the room. Someone would notice. Someone would think it was weird, take note of his odd behavior.   
It just seemed impossible not to look, after what Luis had told him that morning, to take his eyes off of Seth J. Gecko and Dr. Spencer Reid. 

Freddy leaned further against the bar, taking another drag of his cigarette while he pretended to watch the game on TV and not the two men he could see sitting behind him in the mirror under it.

The little information his unit had been able to procure on the criminals recruited by Cabot had not included anything about the tall, dark-haired man with the large neck tattoo. Freddy had given him a once over the day before, remembered his face so he could try to pick it out from pictures of convicted felons and find out his name later on, but he hadn't recognized him then.

Now that he knew it was obvious. 

Gecko's face had been plastered all over the news just a few months back. He'd heard all about his breakout, less about what had happened after. A number of dead FBI agents, and Gecko vanished, that was what he knew.   
Of course, now he knew for sure that not all of the BAU team had died that day. 

He glanced into the mirror once more, saw Gecko and Reid still seated on the couch by the wall opposite the bar. Cabot's hobby room was spacious and they seemed to have positioned themselves as far away as possible from him and from Mr. Brown who was nursing a beer at the other end of the bar.   
He'd have thought it odd just yesterday. Most of the other guys were tight-lipped when it came to personal stuff but not nearly as antisocial as Cabot surely would have liked them to be. Yesterday night after the first meet they had all hung out and drunk together, getting a feel for their new colleagues. No one had been openly hostile -except Gecko. He'd been there for a few minutes only before he'd made off to his room. 

It had only taken those few minutes for Freddy to come to two conclusions. One: Gecko did not want to be here. Two: Gecko wanted to kill half the people in this group.

He'd been confused then. Confused and worried by Gecko's presence here despite his attitude, by the fact that the young man without a name had seemingly vanished and was not there as part of the group anymore, by the weird social dynamics no one was addressing. Too many moving parts, too many uncertainties for his liking.

Now of course, he knew what was going on. Reid wasn't part of the group at all, he was a hostage, Gecko's prisoner. Luis had told him about the agent they had recovered, the man who had escaped almost being killed by Cabot's men. They had most of their new information from him and his team.   
Reid's team.   
Apparently, Agent Morgan had been captured trying to rescue Reid and then both men had been brought to LA, to Cabot. From there Morgan had somehow escaped, without Reid.

Evidently.

Freddy shifted, uneasy. This knowledge left him slightly less confused but much more worried. 

He'd thought he knew what he was getting into but this situation he was not prepared for. Morgan was swearing up and down that Cabot thought him dead, that he wasn't expecting police interference. But the risk that this would all go south had increased exponentionally....Cabot could find out about Morgan somehow, he could find out who Reid was....Freddy really knew next to nothing about who knew or suspected what here, or who might talk to whom. About Gecko's motivation he knew even less...all he could see was his odd, shifty behavior, all he could feel was that something wasn't right with him and Cabot. 

He ought to get out. It was the only sane thing to do. Way too many moving parts. He didn't have nearly enough details to judge the risk properly, had never met Morgan and thus couldn't know how much his words were worth.   
As for Reid...the young man honestly looked...

Broken.

Freddy glanced at the former agent again, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. Reid looked nothing like an agent. He appeared painfully young most of all, too thin, too skittish to ever be taken for a cop. More than that, he was clearly traumatized in some way, mentally impacted...kid hadn't said a word to anyone, merely letting himself be ushered around by Gecko, silent, tense around them and vacant and removed when left alone. It seemed like he had no fight left in him at all. 

Extremely worrisome. 

He might crack at any second for all Freddy knew. If these men found out he was a cop they would kill him...Freddy wouldn't be able to help him unless he blew his cover, and even if he didn't Cabot would be spooked from thereon out.   
He gritted his teeth. Shit.   
He didn't want to think about crap like that. Nothing had happened yet; nothing would happen, He had this. He was cool. He was Mr. Orange. Mr. Orange didn't care. He needed that mindset to pull this off - but seeing Dr. Reid was making that especially hard.  
Mr. Orange wouldn't give a shit about the marks of abuse clearly visible on the young man's skin, the glassy look in his eyes, the stories they told. Freddy the cop, Freddy the human couldn't help looking at them and thinking about what four months as Seth Gecko's hostage must have done to the agent. 

'Fucking fuck. Pull yourself together, Newendyke.'

He needed to figure out what to do here. He needed to talk to Luis. But he couldn't leave now, not without making Cabot suspicious. He had to play the part for now. He pulled more calming smoke into his lungs and grabbed a bottle from behind the bar. Something for his nerves. He tipped his head back and let the alcohol burn down his throat. When he looked back into the mirror it was just in time to see the door by the couch open.

“There you are, Mr. Black. Hiding out in here?“ 

Mr. White walked in, winking at Gecko. He walked over to the couch and Freddy saw both Gecko and Reid tensing in unison.   
It was a tiny movement, White didn't even seem to notice it, but it made Freddy's brow furrow. Mr. White was a middle-aged, robust guy with slicked back hair and a Hawaiian shirt. Freddy had scoped out the bank with him the day before and they’d had a few drinks after; the man was a nice guy, as far as criminals went. Funny, sociable, easy to talk to, level-headed. Still a criminal and a killer of course, but he wasn’t prone to violent outbursts, or openly frightening in conversation. Plus, he and Gecko seemed to be on friendly terms. 

And yet there was that reaction....

“Just got sick of Eddie's bullshit stories, man,“ Gecko shrugged, seemingly indifferent again in a blink. His posture hadn’t relaxed though. If Mr. White was seeing it, he didn’t comment on it. 

“You got some time for an old friend now?“ he asked instead, jerking his chin towards the bar. 

Gecko hesitated for just a second before nodding. 

“Go have a drink,“ he told Reid neutrally. There was something odd there too, about both men's behavior, something that didn't fit the expected dynamic of hostage and kidnapper...he'd been picking up sniplets of that too since yesterday but couldn't put a finger on it....something...something off...one more uncertainty...

Reid hesitated for a second, seemingly frozen on the couch, fear flickering in his eyes that Freddy couldn't clearly place, then he got up and walked over to the bar. He made a bee line around Mr. Brown who ignored him completely and looked like he wanted to evade Freddy as well. Unfortunately, there wasn't that much room at the bar and he ended up closer than he clearly would have liked.   
Freddy glanced at him, tempted to say something, even though he knew he should keep a distance from the man. Reid couldn't find out who he was, there was no telling if he would keep the information to himself. Plus, it wasn't like it would help Freddy any...Reid clearly wasn't up for any scheming against his captors. 

Reid had evaded his eyes but clearly felt them; he hunched his shoulders so that his long hair fell into his face. He wasn’t sitting down or taking a drink from behind the bar, merely standing there, his whole body taunt, like he was just waiting for some sort of attack. Freddy felt a chip in his long practiced mask of indifference. So young, practically his age...looking so broken....that could have been him...   
He tore his eyes away, angry at himself. He had a mission. If he did it right, Reid would be rescued when all these men were arrested. That was the best he could do right now.

He looked back at Gecko and White as inconspicuously as possible; the two men were sitting closely together, voices lowered as they spoke, clearly having a private conservation. So they did know each other, interesting... 

.xxx.

“So Seth,“ Larry looked at his old acquaintance with one eyebrow raised, “You think you can fill me in now?“


	76. Chapter 76

Seth was so wound up it was making him nervous.

Larry frowned slightly but otherwise kept an outward appearance of calmness. He wanted answers now and he was going to get them. Joe and everybody else who might distract Seth was dealing with business elsewhere and Seth could sit here while keeping an eye on his prisoner...nothing stood in the way of a talk this time.

"Really dunno what you wanna hear here, man," Seth shrugged, eyes fixated on the bar.

Larry sighed. He hadn't expected Seth to be very forthcoming despite his previous reassurances...whatever was going on with him, it clearly wasn't dinner conversation.

"I'm not sure I wanna hear any of it. But I gotta. Too much on the line here for me not to."

"It's not gonna affect you," Seth shook his head, understanding his reason for asking immediately, "I told you, it's got nothing to do with the heist at all. Your risk isn't any greater. I'll do this job...I just don't trust anyone here to keep Spencer in one piece until then."

Larry glanced over at the young man at the bar. Hours ago he'd apparently had to be restrained, he'd been beside himself, hysterical, seeming mentally disturbed at the least...he thought Seth had hinted that he might harm himself. Now, though, he was just standing there, looking sick and pale, but being eerily calm and silent. He still looked distressed if one paid even a little bit of attention...but considering how Larry had last seen him, he looked incredibly put together. The change didn't make sense, and yet everyone was acting like it did not warrant any questions. It seemed everybody here was in on something Larry was not part of; it would not do.

"Tell me why he's here," he demanded, "What is he doing here and what was going on with that other guy?"

"That guy is dead," Seth said matter of factly, "don't worry about him." When Larry just raised an eyebrow, impatient, he added. "It's like I told you. I was doing a different job when...Mr. Blonde found me." He jerked his head in Reid's direction, "Kid has rich parents. I was pulling the usual. Nabbed him and hit them up for money. A lot. They were gonna pay... but Blonde found me before I could collect the money. I told him I didn't want the job -so he grabbed the kid and brought him here. Him and his friend -that guy had shown up to get him out but it never came to that. Anyway...Joe's refusing to let me have him back till I do this job for him and I need that money. So I agreed to do the heist but before this is over, I can't have anyone screw it up for me, not Eddie, not Blonde, not him," he jerked his chin towards the bar, "That's why I had you watch him...Blonde's a fucking psycho and Eddie's pissed at me. I don't trust them not to carve him up for sport...plus, yesterday, I wasn't sure if the boy wasn't gonna try anything stupid because his friend bit the dust. He lost it when he realized we were offing him...well you saw...I got him to calm down now, but I gotta watch him..."

 

Larry felt his brows furrow; it was a smooth story so far, accompanied by just the right gestures and expressions. Most of it made sense, too. But it also left questions open, and Larry couldn't tell if it was deliberate. 

"So wait...Joe is blackmailing you? That what you're saying?" That seemed to be one of the most obvious kinks in the story, right along with, "And what do you even still need other money for? The money from this heist will be enough to settle you. Why is the boy important-"

 

"I owe, Joe, alright?!" Seth snapped, stopping his question short, "Or, to be precise, Richard owed Joe. I'm here to repay a debt that Joe clearly feels isn't settled yet. I won't get any cash here. And yeah....he's fucking twisting my arm on this. If I tell him to go fuck himself and walk outta here he'll kill my only way to a crap load of money, and as you can probably imagine working jobs under the radar isn't quite as easy for me anymore as it used to be. So yeah, I need this to work out, I'm fucking pissed at Joe, but you don't gotta worry. I'll settle this debt."

Larry was quiet for a long moment. It all made sense. It wasn't a great basis for doing this job, working with someone who didn't want to be here, but Seth looked like he meant it when he said he was going to see it through. Nothing was out of character here. 

And yet...he couldn't put a finger on what it was that was bothering him still...

 

He assessed Seth who missed his sceptical expression, attention on the bar again, on the guy. Something fleeting in his expression...the memory of what he'd seen the day before...something.... 

Larry sighed. Maybe he was just being paranoid. Seth was a volatile guy, one track mind, trigger temper. It had seemed extreme to Larry that he would put a knife through the hand of the guy who had attacked his hostage, especially since there was clearly no permanent damage...but if he thought about it, it made sense for Seth to set boundaries, to send one clear, brutal message to trespassers. If he was nervous enough about getting that money...no, it wasn't out of character. It wasn't out of character for Joe either to pull this kind of shit in order to get the right people for his project.

Still. 

The way the boy had asked him about Seth yesterday...it had seemed...Larry wasn't sure. Like he'd known him for longer than Seth's story implied maybe, like there was a deeper connection. He knew about Stockholm Syndrome of course, knew that the boy's behaviour and perception of Seth right now would be nothing to build on, especially given his state....but...then there had also been that moment when Seth had carried the hostage to his new room, put him on the bed. The way he'd picked him up and carried him, put him down and how carefully he'd attached the restraints...yes, that was it, Larry realized. Seth wasn't acting right, not like he knew people like them treated hostages. If this was just about money he'd be treating the boy like an object, a nuissance to be controlled at best. The kid's bruises seemed to suggest this, too...just...

Larry sighed, giving up. He had nothing concrete, just a vague hunch, and it wasn't like he expected Seth to comment on this, at least not differently than he had just now. If there was more to this, he wouldn't say it, that much was obvious. He decided to let it go, at least outwardly, for the moment.

 

"Alright, Seth," he said, "thanks for letting me know, man. I won't be in your way."

 

Seth nodded coolly. "Good. Now you gonna pour me a drink outta that bottle or not?"

 

And that was it. That was all he was going to get, no matter how many questions he asked.

He'd be on the lookout, Larry concluded. 

He poured Seth a drink. "Lemme know if you need someone to have an eye on him again," he said casually.

 

Maybe he'd find out on his own what Seth wasn't telling him, if there was anything, and if it could in any way become a danger to him and Joe during this heist. He glanced towards the bar. Maybe he'd get it out of the boy instead.

 

xxx

"You look like you could use a drink."

Reid stopped breathing, white fingers digging into the wood of the bar and Freddy cringed internally at the reaction.

He almost backed out again, discomfort and better judgment both pushing him to. He shouldn't have said anything...there was nothing he could do to really help the guy, nothing he could say even...

Any real words of comforts would give him away. And yet...he'd tried to just sit there and say nothing while there was this person silently suffering next to him, this young guy, his colleague in a way...it had only worked for so long.

Mr. Orange might have been able to note the placement of certain marks on the kid and not have his stomach turn at the indication of what must have happened there...Mr. Orange certainly would not have let himself think about what might be happening to Spencer Reid outside of these common rooms, what kinds of violations he'd seen and was still expecting later that night.

Freddy couldn't help but notice though...the blackened eye, the swollen cheek, the finger marks around his neck, poorly hidden by a high collar and long hair, the withdrawn, skittish behavior that pointed to PTSD...it was all so glaring, the mark of these criminals, like a slap in the face of anything just, a punch to his gut...

He was here to bring these people down...he'd known they were bad. But this, this was such a glaring reminder...and it made him sick that he couldn't do his job and take Reid out of here, that he had to play the part of one of the people who were hurting him.

The way the young man had cringed at the mere verbal address just now...

Shoulda known, he mentally scolded himself...he didn't know why he'd thought Reid would react positively to drawing one of Cabot's men's attention. He'd clearly come to associate it with danger...

"You know, you look like my younger brother," Freddy shot out, first thing he could think of that might sound like he wasn't a threat.

Reid's eyes flickered to his, clearly caught off guard and, for a second, not quite apprehensive. Clear.

Freddy jumped at the chance. "Yup, same goofy mop of hair," he affected a good-natured grin, lifting his glass to symbolically toast the other man, "Don't tell me you also wanna be in a boy band though."

It worked. His words were odd enough to keep Reid from pulling into himself the way he'd done all day when confronted with one of them. He seemed confused, unsure about how to react, how to categorize this criminal's friendly behavior, and Freddy moved on quickly before he could decide to be suspicious of it. With a heaving sound he reached over the bar, slowly, pretending not to see the other tense automatically, and quickly pulled out another glass, filling it to the rim with liquor. He pushed it at Reid, about half way across the table, staying well out of his personal space.

Reid drew back, shaking his head minimally. "I'm good, thanks," he said quietly.

"Aw, come now," Freddy poured himself another drink, smiling jovially, "Think yer gonna miss anything tonight? Joe said we were done for the day, he's not gonna come looking for us till morning."

The pointed mention of this fact seemed to help a little. Reid's shoulders relaxed just a tiny bit. Bingo.

He took a gulp of his drink. "Gah, good stuff. Best. First time I had this was on my 14th birthday. My brother, Sam, he was 13. We sneaked into my dad's liquor cabinet and drank the whole bottle before dinner." He leaned over slightly, conspiratorially, like drinking buddies at the bar might do, gesturing with his glass. "Funniest story of my life, us trying to keep up the facade of being sober over dinner and my dad getting redder and redder as we slurred through questions and tried to stab peas with our forks. I actually stabbed my sister in the little toe while I was under the table looking for a missing one. She should not'a worn green socks that day."

He knew he was a natural story teller. A natural actor too obviously. It came easy to him to tell this story at just the right distance, just the right proximity, to read Reid's expression and body language to know what kind of tone and smile was needed, what characters and events to add...a harmless story, something to identify with, to make him seem human, to show that he was someone with a brother, someone who didn't want to hurt someone like him...

He didn't expect a laugh. It had clearly been a long time since Spencer Reid had been anywhere close to laughing. He didn't need that though. All he'd wanted was to create that connection, that reassurance...and from there, as someone non-threatening, to provide some much needed distraction. No questions, no reminders...just a story.

"You know the best part though?" he kept talking, light, naturally engaging. "My mother had made this huge three tier cake, yeah? And after dinner she brought it to the table, candles and all, and I was sitting there, watching my brother turn...well pea green, yeah...and, well you can guess I'm sure." Silence in return, but slightly more tension draining out of narrow shoulders. "Right. Puked all over that cake," he laughed, "Most disgusting thing I've ever seen."

He wanted to think he saw it, a tiny flicker of a shadow of a smile somewhere around those bruised lips. "Exactly," he nodded enthusiastically, as though Reid had laughed out loud. He lifted his glass again, "To war stories."

Reid's eyes met his for about a second before flitting away again. Freddy could see his conflict, dying on the inside to say more, say anything else, but he knew this was the best he could do, the best play he had...if it wasn't enough...

He nearly sighed in relief when Reid gingerly reached over and picked up his glass, taking one short, shaky breath before knocking the whole thing back at once.

"Fucking A," Freddy noted, grinning, "Made my first drinking buddy. Fair warning, I'm fucking hilarious after you've had a couple of these."

He poured Reid another glass before he could meet any protest and settled in for another story.


	77. Chapter 77

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long breaks! I will finish this! 
> 
> Anyone still with me here?

It was a relief to feel numb again. 

Stupid, of course, to drink in the dangerous surroundings he was in, but Spencer was under no illusion that it would make any difference for him. The only thing keeping him safe was Seth's influence, and even if he'd wanted to stay vigilant to watch Seth's back – the man would hardly be better off for it.

So he drank until his the perpetual tremor in his fingers started to diminish, until the cold feeling of dread in his chest was dulled by the warm burn of liquor. The man talking to him, Mr. Orange, seemed oddly nice, to the point of being suspicious, but Spencer didn’t want to analyze that now. He didn't want to think at all. 

So he let the man's voice wash over him, not lingering on why he was acting this chummy when clearly he had to be suspicious of Spencer's role here. If there was danger coming from him, Seth would know just as well as he, better given his current state. Maybe he'd tell him later, just to be sure...but Seth was busy now, and they had a facade to keep up. They were hostage and kidnapper again here, for these people, he understood that, understood that giving any hint at their true relationship would make Seth seem weak and endanger him. 

So he played the part, resisted the urge to go back to Seth and stay close, even though it made him nervous just sitting across the room from him like this. He kept glancing at the mirror, to make sure Seth was still there, even though he knew Mr. Orange had noticed. So what though? He probably looked unnerved enough that it could pass for apprehension towards Seth, not fear for the man. 

It was almost a physical relief when Seth finally got up, clapping Mr. White on the shoulder before walking over to the bar. He barely kept from leaning into Seth when he came to stand between them, well aware of Mr. Orange's sharpening gaze.

“Having a good time?“ Seth asked casually as he poured himself a drink into Spencer's glass. 

Spencer knew the question wasn't directed at him, merely formulated so as to not draw attention to the fact that he wasn't part of the crew, so he stayed quiet until Mr. Orange took the hint. 

“The best. Kid here is a real chatter box,“ Mr. Orange winked at him, still good-humored, but his expression had changed subliminally. It was more obvious now that he was putting on a face, and really watching them closely from behind it. “Sit down. Drink with us.“

“No can do,“ Seth shook his head, giving a mere flash of teeth without anything behind it, “I'm gonna turn in. Joe wants us on the job early tomorrow.“

Reid took the hint and got up. 

“I'm gonna go, too, I think,“ he said, trying his best to not make it seem too related, “Bye.“

He nodded in Mr. Orange's direction without really looking, then followed Seth as the man turned to walk out of the room. He could feel two pairs of eyes on them until they'd closed the door behind them.   
Out of sight, Seth paused, turning around to put put a hand on Spencer's neck, studying his face. 

“Alright?“ he asked lowly, his face still placid like it had been in the other room, but with fear shining through dully.   
Spencer leaned into the touch, closing his eyes for a brief second. 'Alright' was a joke, but he knew Seth didn't mean it that way. 

“I'm tired,“ he muttered and Seth nodded, pulling him along the corridor towards their room. 

Spencer wasn't sure he'd be able to sleep at all, even with the alcohol numbing his nerves, but he just wanted to get away from those criminals and the constant fear that something might happen. He wanted to be behind a locked door, safe with Seth beside him. 

Once in the room, Seth didn't even bother turning on the light. He locked the door behind them, and neither man commented when he pocketed the key. Spencer didn’t waste his breath saying that he wasn't going to go anywhere. He knew the kind of scare he'd given Seth earlier when he'd tried to kill himself, and even though he felt stable now, even though it had been out of desperation born of the situation, he wasn't too sure of his own mind anymore. His feelings weren't reliable...it was probably best to trust Seth with them for now. If nothing else, it would let the older man sleep more peacefully. 

Seth's hand came out of the dark, cupping the side of his face, and there was just enough light to see the worry in the man's eyes. “Do you want some aspirin?“ 

His bruised eye and cut lip were stinging slightly under Seth's light touch but Spencer shook his head, “No, it's alright. I barely feel anything.“ 

And thank god for that. 

Seth hesitated, looking like he might protest for a moment, but in the end he clearly came to the decision that if Spencer felt nothing now, he wasn't going to mess with that. 

“Okay,“ he lowered his hand, “Go to bed.“

He made to turn around but Spencer grabbed hold of his hand in the dark, surprising Seth with the strength behind his grip. Silently, he walked backwards to the bed, pulling Seth down with him. He couldn't have another discussion about Seth's guilt and what he thought was best for him, and luckily Seth seemed to realize that.   
He lowered himself down on the mattress next to him and Spencer immediately curled into him, giving him no time to pull away.   
With a heavy sigh, Seth eventually put an arm around him. 

His hand found Spencer's in the dark, and a second later the metallic sound of handcuffs snapping shut filled the room. Spencer didn't even wince at the feel of cold metal around his right wrist, even as Seth lay tense, discomfort practically radiating off of him. 

Spencer entwined his fingers with that of the older man, resting them on Seth's chest. 

“It's alright,“ he muttered, barely above a whisper as he turned his face to rest at the nape of Seth's neck. 

It was. He didn't feel trapped, just calmer knowing that Seth wouldn't be going anywhere tonight without him noticing. Closing his eyes, he let himself relax, focus on the heart beating under his ear. 

They were safe. Safe for now. Seth was right here with him, warm and alive and safe. 

It seemed to take forever, but eventually the tension drained from Seth's body as well, and gentle fingers stroked through Spencer's hair. 

“Try to get some sleep,“ Seth muttered, toneless. 

And somehow, unexpectedly, he did.

He dreamed of water.

The ocean, the soft sound of waves lapping against the side of their boat. The warmth on his sun kissed skin as he stood leaning on the railing, smiling at the seagulls circling above his head. The rain clouds had blown over, leaving the sky a bright blue and there was no one around for miles to disturb their peace.

“Fucking hell, it's boiling out here,“ Seth complained coming up beside him, briefly resting a tan hand on Spencer's heated-up hair. “You're going to get a heat-stroke.“

“I'm not going back inside,“ Spencer said, “It's stifling in there.“

“Well, only one solution then,“ Seth shrugged out of his shirt, easily reaching for the ladder tied up beside him and throwing it over the railing. Without warning, he jumped over the railing and, with a big splash, landed in the ocean.

“Seth!“ Spencer cried, half-laughing as water hit him, “Come back! What if there are sharks?“

“Then they had better steer clear if they know what's good for them,“ Seth smirked, paddling water as he reached up. “Come on, jump down here. You'll thank me.“

“No, thank you,“ Spencer laughed as he shook his head, “I enjoy having both my legs.“

“Come on,“ Seth insisted, brown eyes flashing, “I promise I'll keep you safe.“

“Oh, will you?“ Spencer joked, leaning over the railing, “Then why do I get the feeling you just want me to come down there so you can dunk my head under water?“

Seth barked a laugh, “Alright. After that you'll be safe.“

“Unless the fall kills me.“

Seth looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, then stretched both arms towards him. “Just jump already, Spencer. I promise I'll catch you.“

Spencer jumped, and the movement ripped him out of his dream, the jerking motion pulling Seth out of an uneasy sleep as well.

“Sorry,“ Spencer muttered drowsily, settling back in before Seth could wake up truly worried, “I was dreaming about the boat, that day in the water...“

Seth was still beneath him, fingers wrapped tightly around Spencer's. 

“I caught you,“ he murmured eventually, barely audible.

Spencer closed his eyes and went back to sleep.


	78. Chapter 78

“Derek, honey, Dave says you're not talking to anyone out there.“ Penelope sat down on the edge of his hospital bed, looking worried, “I don't want to push you, really, I don't, but we still have to find Reid and-“

“I can't tell them anything more that's useful,“ Morgan interrupted, looking at the wall. “They know where Cabot's head quarters are, they know his plan, they have a man inside. All I know, I said: Gecko will do anything to keep Reid alive, and we cannot endanger him by storming the place now. We need to wait till the heist...till they're distracted.“

“But...“ Garcia replied doubtfully, “How can you really think Seth Gecko wouldn't hurt Reid? He's a monster. Insane. Everything we have on him-“

“I just know,“ Morgan said. 

He refused to say more. Eventually Garcia left but he barely noticed it, staring at the wall, caught up in his thoughts and memories.

~'Morgan stood frozen in place, heart racing as he stared at the hole in the ground which should have been his grave and which was now filled by the lifeless body of Cabot's handyman. He was close enough that he could see the man's face even in the dark, empty eyes staring up at him as blood from the hole in his head ran into them, making it look like he was crying bloody tears.   
He saw his own face down there for a moment and a shudder went through his cold limbs, tearing him out of his stupor. At the sound of a gun being reloaded, the empty shell falling to the ground with a soft thud, his eyes snapped back to Seth Gecko, shaken, uncomprehending.

Gecko regarded him levelly, his dark eyes unreadable. The gun in his hand was still cocked and loaded, but it hung at his side now, like a collared dog. Morgan stared at the man, words stuck in the back of his throat, his mind reeling. 

He should be dead. His grave had been dug, his last words said, the gun had been pointed at his head. And yet, here he was, still standing, while Cabot's man lay dead in his place.

“What-?” he stumbled over the word, unable to form a full sentence. Adrenaline and fear were still rushing through him, making comprehensibility an effort. 

“What are you standing there for?” Gecko snapped, “I just saved your fucking life, you gonna make me fill in the hole, too?” He jerked his head towards the shovel at Morgan's feet, and Morgan picked it up automatically, numb hands clutching at the wood.

“You killed him,” he finally gasped, wording his shock. 

Gecko shot him a look that was entirely unimpressed, on the verge of exasperation.

“Brilliant observation, Captain Obvious. Don't tell me I gotta spell this out for you now. I thought you were the best of the best.”

Morgan just stared, unable to even muster up anger at the taunt. He didn't understand. Gecko should have killed him just then. It didn’t make sense that he hadn’t. Even less that he'd killed one of Joe Cabot's men-

“Really?” Gecko interrupted his sluggish thoughts, “That how it's gonna be?” He sighed. “It's as simple as 1 plus 1. You pulled the golden ticket today -you get to take all your self-righteous super hero posturing and walk out of here in one piece.”

Gecko shook his head when Morgan just kept on staring, impatient. 

“I never said anything else. Don't misinterpret this as me giving a shit about your life. You'll walk- for the same reason that the Italian grandpa and his lady friend walked away from me when the only sane thing for me woulda been to put a bullet right between their eyes -Spencer. He'll need you when this is over.”

A shadow seemed to fall over the man's face at that, his derision momentarily replaced by some unfathomable emotion.

“You're serious...” Morgan found himself saying stupidly. He couldn't believe it, but it couldn't be a trick, or a game. There was nothing Gecko would gain from it. “Why?”

“I don't owe you answers,” Gecko said coldly, “Dig.”

Morgan moved, some good sense finally kicking in after all. He should just shut his mouth, close the grave and get out of here before the man changed his mind. And yet...

“Tell me why.”

He had to know, at his own risk. He expected to be snapped at again, but Gecko sighed this time, looking resigned. “I wouldn't even bother, but I actually need you to understand some things before you leave here. For Spencer's sake. So listen, and listen good. I'm under no illusion that you won't want to bring an entire squad of feds down on me and Cabot's team the second you find a phone. But you're not going to do that. You're not going to do that, Agent Morgan, for the same reason that I am letting you walk. Spencer. He will be the first person Cabot kills if he so much as smells an ambush, you get that?“

Morgan nodded, despite himself.

"So what you're going to do instead, is take the phone I'm gonna give you and wait for me to call. I will tell you when the heist is happening, and that will be the moment when you bring all hell down on Joe and the rest, when they'll be dispersed and distracted. I will make sure Spencer is left somewhere with as few of Cabot's men as possible, tell you where, and you'll be able to get him then.“

“You're serious,“ Morgan said again, incredulous, “You'll let yourself get arrested. For Reid.“

Gecko didn't say anything to that. Morgan kept digging blindly, thoughts rushing through his head, trying to make sense of what was happening. Gecko was actually keeping his promise to Reid...to spare him pain? That made no sense after every other horrible, callous thing he'd done. And whether he planned on getting himself arrested or fleeing somehow, he was taking a big risk with this plan...all for-

“Why?“ he asked again and Gecko actually rolled his eyes this time, looking like he wanted nothing but to shoot Morgan in the face at that. Still, Morgan didn't let off, not so much encouraged by not being dead yet as needing to know. 

“Why not tell me if you were going to do this?” Other than sadistic glee of course. 

Gecko raised an eyebrow like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Cabot's man woulda caught on.”

Morgan frowned, “You could've killed him and actually let me call Reid once I was free.” 

Even now, it was impossible for him not to be suspicious. If Gecko had only been playing the part of emotionless psycho, he'd done so too well. 

The criminal shook his head. “No. No more risk. I needed to hear the call. Wouldn't trust you two not to muck this up. I told you you were done making decisions. Don't be such a pussy. You're right as rain now, aren't you?“

Aside from the emotional trauma, which clearly didn't matter at all to Gecko.

“You actually want me to believe this?” Morgan snapped, “That you're suddenly the good guy?“

He was wracking his brain, trying to think of what other plan Gecko could have...but there wasn't anything...

“I don't care what you believe,” Gecko said darkly, “as long as you do as I say. And you will, won't you? For Spencer? You wouldn't get him hurt.“

The way he said it made Morgan think twice about mouthing off now. He kept digging, quiet until he was done. Then he crawled out of the whole and watched as Gecko kicked the dead man into it with a blank expression that said he absolutely couldn't care less. It was the same expression that he met Morgan's gaze with. 

“There actually is a town, a couple miles that way,“ he said, pointing down the highway, “I trust your keen instincts will allow you to find that at least.“

He turned around to walk back o his car, but stopped short of his car, pausing for a moment before turning back around. 

“What I said earlier,” he said evenly, eyes dark, “It wasn't true. Richie didn't touch him.“

It was clear what he meant, and Morgan felt his stomach cramp up at the mention, even as confusion spread through him. Gecko went on, “And I haven't in a long time...not since he said he wanted me to.“

If that was supposed to fill him with relief, it didn't work. All it did was confirm his second worst fear, that Seth had raped Reid. With all the self-control he had, Morgan kept himself from shouting or tackling the man and risking his newly won chance. 

'Calm, be calm, you're can only make it worse for Reid...he says he'll stop...'   
If there was even a remote chance of that being true, he couldn’t risk changing that. Still, he needed a long moment before he could attempt to answer in a way that seemed remotely calm, that was remotely thought through.

“Why are you saying that now?“

“Figure it will help you not to come storming into Cabot's HQ before the time and ruining everything for everyone.“ The words were cold, mocking, but there was a gravity to the man's gaze that was startling. “No one's gonna touch him till you come get him out. I'll make sure of it.“

And maybe it was because Morgan had been hit on the head a few to many times that day, or because the near death experience had made something inside him snap, but looking into Seth Gecko's eyes then, he actually looked like he meant that.'~

x

Morgan closed his eyes, tired of staring at the hospital ceiling. Every fiber of his body was screaming at him to go back there and save Reid...but Gecko had been right. He could only endanger him now.  
He thought of the phone in his pocket that he hadn't told the team about. He had no idea whether Gecko would actually call when the time came. All he could do was hope, work with the team come morning, and prepare for the worst.   
If Gecko was lying he would put a bullet between his eyes the second he got a chance. Morgan gritted his teeth, heat rising in his chest as he thought of Reid.   
On second thought, he might do that no matter how this ended.   
Xxx


	79. Chapter 79

So yes, I am actually managing to get somewhere here, so I will try to keep that up for as Long as I can. Theoretically this story is near it's natural ending but knowing myself I'll drag it out endlessly still. 

Thanks for reviewing. If you have any suggestions for what you'd still like to see happen, or how you think this should end, I'd love to hear about it :)

 

x

Freddy saw Gecko and Dr. Reid again the next morning, very briefly as he went to find Mr. White.

The heist was about a week away, but everybody was already making preparations. His and White's job was to keep and eye on the outside of the bank, the comings and goings of staff and security. They'd been doing that every day now since they'd met, and Freddy might have actually looked forward to shooting shit with the man if he wasn't so unnerved due to all the instability that had suddenly come into the job.

He had tried to get a feel for Reid's mental state yesterday, and the result had been worrying. Waking up this morning, he'd been half afraid that it had already all been blown and that Joe was minutes away from kicking in his fake apartment door and shooting him.

Nothing had happened though, and everything was business as usual when he entered Cabot's compound an hour later.

Mr. White was in one of the more spacious, windowless rooms on the second floor when he found him, hanging around Gecko and, inevitably, Reid.

Gecko was sitting at a table, engrossed in what looked like blueprints of the bank vault, with White looking over his shoulder, and Reid sitting next to him, a vacant look in his eyes as he stared at the table. He didn't look worse than yesterday at least, even though that wasn't saying much.

"Ready to go?" Freddy was quick to pull himself together and play up his cheery, devil may care attitude. The only one who smiled back at him was Mr. White.

"Sure, buddy. Gimme a sec."

"Whatcha doin'?" Freddy asked curiously, in line with his persona, but actually interested. Joe didn't much like them talking about their individuals tasks.

He stood shoulder to shoulder with White, looking over Seth's who turned around briefly to give him a sour look. "My job. Feel free to do yours."

Not much change there then. Great.

"Easy, sour puss," he quipped, "Not like it's a big secret. We're gonna rob a bank, I've heard."

Gecko regarded him impatiently. "Well, we aren't gonna rob jack shit if I don't figure out how to open the safe and you're not helping my focus."

"The kid's not bothering you sitting there," Freddy shot back, "Or is he? Hey, maybe you should come with us, scope out the bank."

That was a risky move, not thought through, but it suddenly occurred to Freddy that they could just 'lose' Reid somewhere in town...no one had told him he was a hostage. For all he knew he didn't need to be watching him. If only-

"No," Seth said, of course, a hand automatically landing on Reid's wrist, pushing it down on the table even though the young man hadn't even looked like he was about to get up. "No, I need his help with this."

It would be the smartest thing to let it go, but something inside Freddy twisted at the sight of Gecko's hand on Reid's bandaged wrist. Stupid, petty emotion.

"Oh, so you're an expert on bank vaults then," he feigned surprise, "Well, sorry, no one told me. I was wondering what you're doing here, you shoulda said so. You cracked many of these then?"

He fully expected awkward silence to follow but while Seth did look tense for a second, Reid barely blinked.

"Well," he said quietly, "This isn't exactly Fort Knox, but it's one of the more difficult vaults to open. See the 24-bolt Diebold vault door? To the right of the door's center are two linked boxes for the combination mechanisms and to the left is a four movement time clock. The door has a four point pressure system...see the two pressure system stanchions left of the door opening? It's capable of exerting 1/3 of the doors weight in pressure, which is about 22.5 tons. It won't be a walk in the park opening it."

If Reid could feel the three pairs of eyes staring at him for a second, he didn't manage to seem any more tense than he'd been all along.

"Right," Freddy muttered, as baffled by the young man's knowledge as by his unprompted backing of Gecko's lie.

Damn, how warped was the guy...? Luis had shot him a note about possible Stockholm syndrome, but seeing it was different from hearing it. He couldn't believe that Reid actually, genuinely 'felt' like he was on Seth's side. Maybe it was just self-serving, keeping the bad guys from finding out who he was and Seth from getting angry?

"Alright, let's go," White interrupted his thoughts, steering him towards the door with a hand on his shoulder. "See you guys later."

xxx

"You still gonna eat that?" White asked, pointing at Freddy's half eaten fries in his lap.

They had been parked in front of the bank for half an hour, watching the place and chatting about this and that, pleasant enough to take Freddy's mind off of Reid and Gecko for a bit.

"Go for it," Freddy shrugged, handing White the rest of his food. The older man took it, rough fingers briefly brushing over Freddy's. Freddy looked away, trying not to let himself get distracted. Shit, all this stress was getting to him, he would really need to take a chance to take the edge off soon...

"You okay, kid?" White asked, looking over in earnest question, thick brows furrowed over his blue eyes.

Freddy threw a smirk in his direction, shrugging. "Yeah, fine."

Then, thinking for a moment, he decided to take a small risk and asked, "So you and Mr. Black, you know each other, don't you? It's kinda obvious."

White shrugged, popping a fry into his mouth. "Ain't sposed to talk about that, you know that."

"Ah, come on, that's a load of bull and we both know it," Freddy scoffed, "None of us are gonna talk to the cops when this is over."

"Joe knows what he's doing. He's been in the business for a long time now."

"No, I know," Freddy deflected, doing his best not to sound too keen, like he was just talking out of boredom, "I just think sometimes...some of those guys are weird, you know? Like Black, he seems like he doesn't even wanna be here. And then that vault guy...I dunno. The way they act around each other seems off to me."

White looked at him questioningly, "Off how?"

"I dunno, man. Just the way they look at each other."

He was going for casual, just slightly suspicious, but he heard it come out wrong even before he saw White's raised eyebrows, the telling look he gave him. Shit, he didn't mean that...well, he did, but not just that-

"Sure it's not you looking at them?" White asked and Freddy felt blood rise to his cheeks, heart skittering as he scrambled to keep his cool, "No, I mean-"

White huffed, grin loop-sided. "Hey, I'm not judging you. I'm just saying maybe you ought to look elsewhere if that's what you're out for."

With anyone else that would have been a clear dismissal, warning him off, but when he looked at White, the man was looking directly into his eyes and he didn't look away again for multiple second, watching Freddy's face get even redder.

Finally, he cast a look towards the bank, "Slow going now, the next shift isn't for an hour. You wanna drive somewhere...get something?"

"Get what?" Freddy asked, mouth dry.

White looked back over, hint of a smirk on his face, "I think that's for you to decide, kid."

xxx

 

I really wanted to put this in here, even though it takes away from Reid and Seth. I just love White/Orange :)

The bank vault info is taken from Wikipedia, so Reid could have that badass moment :)

Please Review!


	80. Chapter 80

Seth called Morgan two days later.

"The heist is gonna be five days from now. Noon. Four guys in the bank, holding up the people. It'll be Vic Vega, and three guys named White, Orange, and Pink. White's real name is Larry Dimmick. Pink and Orange, I don't know. Another guy, Brown, will be driving the getaway car. I'm the one cracking the vault. They haven't told me where Spencer will be during -I'll have to call you again, but you should be able to work with this for now."

"Right," Morgan said after a long pause.

He sounded surprised, but more about Seth calling than the information oddly.

Seth frowned but decided he didn't care much. It wasn't like it would change anything if Morgan already knew this somehow.

"Let me talk to Reid," Morgan said, predictably, tension rising in his voice.

"He's fine," Seth said shortly, "I've made sure Vic and Eddie steer clear. I'm not leaving him alone."

"Very reassuring," Morgan bit out and Seth decided to ignore the venom in the other man's voice. He didn't much care about that either.

"I want to talk to him."

"No. He's calm now. You'll upset him, and I can't deal with that right now. I need him calm."

"I want to hear his voice, Gecko," Morgan ground out, barely contained now, and something in his voice told Seth not to risk blowing this whole thing over a simply task.

"Fine. Wait. But you don't say a word."

When Morgan grudgingly accepted he walked out of the bathroom, holding the connected phone casually by his side as he went over to the bed.

Spencer blinked groggily when he sat on the edge of the mattress, not quite awake yet.

"Hey," Seth smiled, swiping a lose strand of hair out of Spencer's face, revealing a cheek bone that was slowly turning from purple to green. "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine," Spencer replied, luckily sounding honest when he pushed his face against Seth's hand.

Looked like he hadn't had a nightmare for once, thank god.

"How's your head?" Seth followed up, not worried that the question might seem out of place, "Do you want something for it after you shower?"

"No, I'm okay, thanks," Spencer yawned, sitting up only to curl into his side.

Seth wrapped an arm around his back, letting the younger man seek his closeness. Ironically, it seemed to be the only thing comforting him these days.

"Alright, I'm gonna look at your wrists when you're done," he said. This should be about enough for Morgan.

"They're fine, Seth. I'm fine," Spencer sighed, for what felt like the hundredth time, voice pointedly calm and confident.

Unseen, Seth disconnected the call. Definitely enough. He'd call Morgan back later.

"I have to go look over those plans again," he told Spencer, trying to ignore the way the younger man tensed immediately at the thought of 'outside'.

"Hey," he soothed, pressing his lips to the side of Spencer's head, then put on his most convincing smirk. "Maybe Orange will be there so you can shame him with more random knowledge."

Mr. Orange, and maybe Larry, were the only ones of the gangsters that Reid seemed remotely okay being around, so pulling the focus away from anyone else they might run into seemed wise. They hadn't seen much of Vic in the past few days, but each of those times Reid had reacted extremely stressed.

Duh.

He was trying to avoid a repetition of that today, for everyone's sake.

"He's odd...don't you think?" Spencer muttered, almost as though to himself, drawing Seth out of his thoughts.

"Hm?" he asked, distracted.

"Orange. There's something about him...I can't put my finger on. He sometimes looks at me like..."

"You don't need to worry about him," Seth said firmly. Orange was pretty low on his own list of possible threats, but then, he wasn't Spencer.

"No, I- it's not that," Spencer shook his head, then trailed off, "...Never mind."

Seth let it go.

They were both on edge, and it wasn't made better with all these strangers keeping secrets and being suspicious of one another. Not that Reid could be expected to look at any of them objectively after what Vic and Eddie had done. He'd keep an eye on Orange, but as far as he could tell, that man was the least of their problems.

"Go shower," he said and got up so he could get dressed himself.

Time to face another day.


	81. Chapter 81

"Maybe you were right about them," Larry said seemingly out of nowhere.

Freddy looked up from his beer in surprise, following the older man's eyes over to where Gecko and Reid where standing by the bar.

He almost missed the small movement Larry had pointed out, Gecko's hand lingering on Reid's neck in a way that clearly didn't seem threatening or controlling, instead rather reminiscent of the hand Larry had on Freddy's thigh under the table.

"You think?" Freddy muttered into his glass, doing his hardest to remember that he couldn't sound like that suggestion turned his stomach. They were two criminal working a job to him, officially, he didn't know the truth.

Well, neither did Larry, officially, but looking at the man from out of the corner of his eye now, Freddy could have sworn that the man's skeptical expression might say otherwise.

"Wouldn't he tell you though?" he asked casually, and Larry pinched his thigh, making him jump in surprise.

"Never said I knew him, Freddy."

Freddy made sure his eye-roll was seen. Larry grinned, leaning back in his chair.

"You know," he said after a moment, "Why don't you find out for us?"

Freddy scoffed, "Yeah, cause Black and I have such great conversations."

"No," Larry shook his head, "The boy. You talked to him before and he seems awfully skittish around the rest of us."

"That's cause you're scary, old man," Freddy quipped, and Larry's hand tightened on his thigh again, higher up this time.

"Watch it," he muttered, eyes gleaming, "I don't want to have to teach you some manners."

"Maybe later," Freddy grinned mischievously, then got up abruptly, downing the rest of his drink.

"Well, if I'm gonna do this, you better distract Mr. Big Bad first."

"Oh, don't you worry about that," Larry got out of his chair and walked over to the bar first, clasping a hand on Gecko's shoulder and involving him in a conversation.

Whatever he said to him, Gecko clearly wasn't happy. Larry pointed towards the door and Freddy knew he was asking to have a quick word, out of ear shot, promising it wouldn't take long. He wouldn't let up and, eventually, Gecko gave in, grasping Reid's wrists for a second and saying something to him before following Larry outside.

Reid stayed behind, looking worryingly pale and nervous all on his own. He retreated to one of the sofas towards the back, clearly keen on not being noticed by anyone coming in, even though it was just the two of them for now.

Freddy waited a moment before getting up and walking over. Reid glanced up at him only for a second, then pointedly looked down again, shoulders tense. Apparently his little skit a couple of nights ago hadn't inspired as much confidence in him as he'd thought.

Freddy frowned, inwardly scolding himself. Of course not...how could he expect that. Reid clearly had seen enough shit to not trust anyone ever again, especially not someone he knew was a criminal in Cabot's employ.

He almost changed his mind then and decided to just give Reid this little time of respite when Gecko wasn't there. He could just tell Larry he hadn't found out anything interesting. Problem was, he wanted to know himself. Even after these passed days, he still had gaged worryingly little of Reid's mental state.

"So you and Black seem like quite the pair these days," he started off lightly enough, doing his best not to come across as menacing in any form. "You know him before this? Did a job together?"

"You're not supposed to ask that," Reid said quickly, deflecting the question cleverly so he couldn't be blamed for not answering.

"Oh, screw Joe," he shrugged, scoffing, "We're here, we're gonna talk. Not asking for your name, kid, just some conversation." He winked, "I'm not gonna tell on you, promise."

He blinked when instead of looking away again and evading the question, Reid suddenly looked at him, gaze unexpectedly sharp and clear. "So tell me about you."

It didn't sound demanding at all, like a mere suggestion and Freddy couldn't help but think that Reid maybe hadn't lost all of his profiler knowledge after all. If he hadn't learned the same tricks at the academy, he wouldn't even have noticed the subtle turn around of the conversation.

He quickly nodded, looking uncaring, when the young man tensed. "Sure."

If that got the ball rolling, he'd gladly repeat his fake back story.

"Have you been married long?" Reid nodded towards the fake wedding ring Luis had bought for the job.

"Oh, yeah," he said off-handedly, pulling the ring up and down his finger, "Going on eight years now."

Reid nodded slowly, watching the movement for another moment. "Doesn't she wonder why you have such odd hours?"

"Uh, no. She doesn't live in California," he replied, gaining a somewhat surprised look from Reid. "Joe called us in from all over the States. Figured you'd know that. You from here?"

"Huh?" Reid looked up from where he'd being staring at a spot by Freddy's shoulder somewhat absently. "No. Nevada."

Freddy made a face like he was surprised. "At least you're used to the heat then." And then, as causally as possible, he added, "You got someone missing you back there? Waitin'?"

He'd known why he asked the question, to assess how far gone Reid was, but the flicker of sharp pain in the young man's eyes was enough to make him feel sorry he asked.

"Yes," Reid muttered quietly, eyes unfocussed for a moment. His fingers were tight around the edge of the table.

"Anxious to get back I take it?" Freddy forced himself to follow up, to go through with his plan.

God, he wished he could tell Reid that he was going home soon. Very soon. That he'd be reunited-

"I'm not going back."

Freddy blinked, dragged out of his thoughts, confused. He looked over at Reid, alarmed by his expression. The ex-agent seemed no less clear minded now than he had saying everything else, and somehow that made it worse seeing the dark knowledge deep in those hazel eyes, like he was sure-

"What?" he made himself ask, "Where are you going?"

Reid's gaze seemed far away, lost, suddenly. "I don't know- I-"

He looked up at the sound of the door opening, eyes focusing on Seth Gecko. The change was instantaneous, the young man's sole focus drawn to the criminal, his whole body language changing.

Gecko walked over to them, clearly displeased to see them together. He looked like he wanted nothing more than to pull Reid out of his chair or tell Freddy to scram, however, probably to keep up appearances, he ended up merely sitting down, followed closely by Larry, who smiled like the cat that got the cream.

"So what are you two talking about?" he asked innocently, winking at Freddy when the other two were busy looking at each other.

"Oh, you know," Freddy said lightly, "Home."

Both Reid and Gecko seemed to tense at the same time, for reasons he could imagine all too clearly. And while the last thing he wanted was for Reid to get in trouble with Seth for saying things he shouldn't, he simply couldn't help scratching at Gecko's controlled facade. And sure enough, he saw the effect well, even hidden as it was when Gecko raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," he smiled, utterly fake, "Turns out the kid here isn't going home when this is all over. Can you imagine?"

It was dangerous, bordering on stupid. He didn't want Gecko suspecting him, but just like before, Freddy simply couldn't help riling the man up a bit, too disgusted with how nonchalant he was about what he was doing.

He expected anything, a harsh answer from Gecko or none at all, but not for Reid to answer, unprompted.

"I didn't say I wasn't going home," he corrected levelly, "Just that I wasn't going back."

Freddy barely caught himself from staring, perplexed, uncomprehending. Reid sounded so calm saying that, so resolved...not like he was trying to appease Gecko for having said too much...but like...like he meant it. Like...

Cold spread in his chest, so much that he could barely cover it up with a quick turn to another topic of conversation.

Oh, fuck no.

There he had it then, the answer he'd been looking for.

He didn't miss Gecko's brief look of worried surprise at Reid's words, but it wasn't enough to convince him that the man wasn't completely guilty of creating the cluster-fuck that was Spencer Reid's mind.


	82. Chapter 82

“Your hostage seems really well adjusted, Seth. Maybe you're getting too good at that whole spiel, eh?“

Seth gave Larry a look of barely contained impatience.

“That what you asked me out here to discuss?“ 

He wanted to get back to Spencer. There was no one in the room who'd been an active danger to them, just Orange, so he probably shouldn’t feel quite so on edge. Still, the feeling was there, like an itch under his skin, getting worse with every second he didn't see Spencer.   
He decided to chalk it up to just precaution instead of psychoanalyzing his own behavior. Bad enough that he was constantly doing that with Spencer's already.

“I'm just being cautious, Seth,“ Larry said calmly, ignoring Seth's obvious desire to cut the conversation short. “All our heads are on the line here. I'd rather not lose mine just because your boy suddenly breaks out of whatever shock state he's in at the wrong time.“

“He won't,“ Seth frowned, “He's fine.“

Been there, done that...not that he wanted to hash that out with Larry either, not when he was doing all he could to convince himself that Spencer wasn't going to lose it again any minute... He'd lost count of how many times Spencer had told him that he was lucid and not simply crazy in the past days; it didn't change the facts -what he was saying and doing was definitely crazy.  
Seth barely thought he was managing to convince Spencer that he didn’t think him crazy; he didn't think he had the energy to repeat it all with Larry.   
Unfortunately, the man wouldn't take a hint.

“Before you killed his friend he was so hysterical that I could hear him screaming through two closed doors. Are you telling me he's suddenly decided he doesn’t care after all?“

Seth frowned, truly not knowing how to answer that convincingly. To anyone who didn’t know Morgan was alive it had to look suspicious that Spencer was suddenly so calm after his behavior when Morgan had been here. He was actually kind of surprised Joe hadn’t come to talk to him about it yet. But maybe this was Joe asking...  
He regarded Larry closely. They went way back...but not as far as Joe and Larry did.

“Guess he just understands there's no point anymore,“ he grumbled offhandedly, “Dead is dead.“

He could tell it wasn’t enough, even without seeing Larry's skeptical expression. 

“One would think he'd resent you a lot more than this, given that you killed the guy.“

Seth sighed, “What do you want from me, man? He's under control. He's not killing himself, I'm watching him, and he hasn't got opportunity to cause anyone trouble. How I handle everything else is my business.“

Larry frowned minimally, shrugging, “Hey, I didn't mean to step on your toes. Just wondering. I can see you're watching closely.“  
What should have sounded like a vote of confidence somehow sounded like another suspicion on top of the others. Seth looked up sharply, waiting for Larry to extrapolate, but the man just clapped a hand over his shoulder and gestured towards the door.   
“A drink then? To everything going right.“

Seth wasn't one to decline a drink. Maybe Larry would be a bit more open about his suspicions, if there was more, once he had had a few.   
They went back inside, only to find that Mr. Orange had taken a seat next to Spencer. They looked relatively at ease, given the circumstances; Spencer didn’t seem any paler or edgier than what was his default mode these days. And yet, Seth instantly felt his hands twitch at the sight of them, almost like an instinct he couldn’t suppress – well, shit. So much for not needing to analyze his own behavior for signs of insanity.  
Later.  
He pushed down the feeling and walked over to the table in the corner, Larry in tow.  
“What are we talking about?“ he asked in a poor attempt at civility.  
“Oh, you know.” Orange grinned, “Home.“

Seth tensed immediately. Well, shit. His eyes flickered to Spencer nervously. Was this it? Had he given away their secrets...no, Orange wouldn’t just be sitting there...but he was talking about home?

He sat down, forcibly calm. He didn’t know what was happening, only that he was so sure Spencer would eventually snap that he kept expecting it every minute.   
“Yeah, kid here isn't going home when this is all over. Can you imagine?“

Was he imagining it or was there an odd gleam in Orange's eyes as he said that, his tone somehow sharp under his humor? He couldn’t focus on it for longer than a second because Spencer's answer derailed his thoughts almost instantly.

“I didn't say I wasn't going home. Just that I'm not going back.“

It was probably more than he'd heard Spencer say in the presence of any of the gangsters, aside from the vault recitation, but more shocking than that was what he had said.

He knew exactly what Spencer meant, even as Larry and Orange looked confused, and he felt his chest tighten painfully.  
He didn’t say any more about it in front of the two robbers, just waited for a few more minutes and then excused himself, not even caring if they were subtle about both getting up at the same time again.  
“What did White ask you?“ Spencer asked when they were back in the room, sounding only vaguely concerned with the answer.   
His tone was vaguely reminiscent of the one he'd had back in Mexico when he'd been near catatonic, and Seth heard another alarm bell go off in his head, not sure if this was warranted or worse...

He kept his tone as level as possible. 

“Why you’re so calm. He thinks it isn’t normal, given what happened.“  
“He doesn’t know about Morgan,“ Spencer said, just as levelly, seemingly ready to drop the subject, then though, he stopped, looking more closely at Seth's expression, brows furrowing. “You think it isn’t normal.“


	83. Chapter 83

“You think it isn’t normal,“ Spencer said, his tone somewhere between dejected and anxious.

Seth cringed internally at the tone, one more ridiculous instinct that he couldn't begin to suppress. Making Spencer feel like he thought him mentally unstable was the least of the things that he should feel guilty for, and yet, there it was, slyly climbing to the list of things he wasn't handling. 

He stood there silently for a moment, fingers tight around the door frame, shoving down the instinct to just lie and try to brush this off so they could go to sleep. It would have been the smartest thing maybe, but the truth was, he too had questions, something that needed to be addressed. 

“You said you weren’t going back to your family,“ he turned around, dark eyes intense in the dim light.

He hated both the accusation and the apprehension he could hear in his own voice but he didn't back down, waiting for an answer in turn.   
Spencer's face twitched at the response, his shoulders tensing defensively in a motion so small anyone less familiar with it would have missed it. For a tiny moment his closed off expression rippled, revealing the darkness underneath, and when he pulled the mask back over it looked too tight, painfully brittle.

“That's-” Tight lipped, he looked like he wanted to call Seth out for changing the subject, but Seth just looked at him and he feel silent.   
Because they both knew that he hadn't. It was all one big messy cluster fuck and they both knew it. Every word, every action, all leading back to the rotten core, like their personal black whole that kept inevitably sucking them in.

After a long, increasingly uncomfortable moment of tense silence, Spencer sagged in defeat, and he crossed both arms in front of him, less defensive than protective, hugging him own waist.   
The mere motion had Seth holding back from stepping forward and pulling the younger man into his arms. He gritted his teeth and didn't move, waiting, even as silence threatened to stretch thin between them in the narrow hallway.  
He needed Spencer to say what he was thinking. Neither of them had another fight in them, but he needed to know where they stood, so he could know how to counteract-

“I...” Spencer finally spoke up quietly, looking at the wall, “...I don't know if I can. I thought I had to go back, to show them I'm fine, to reassure them, and tell them what happened to the team...that I owed it to them-” Pained cracked across his face, sudden and sharp, and Seth's chest tightened. Spencer's fingers were aimlessly picking at the hem of his shirt. “But... how will that really help them? They know what Hotch, Elle, and Gideon were like...I don't want them to remember them as monsters...if anyone would even believe that. They died heroes...isn’t that all that matters? I'd just be ripping open old wounds. And my mom, my friends...I'm not the person I was. They wouldn't be getting 'me' back....just this broken, twisted nightmare version of me-“

“Spencer-” Seth shook his head harshly. He hadn't wanted to argue, but this was just too painful to hear, too dangerous to let stand. “Your life isn't over. You can heal. You can go back-”

“I don't want to go back,” Spencer interrupted, looking up at him out of eyes that gleamed like a thousand bloody shards. Seth felt his breath catch at the sudden intensity of them, at the sheer amount of chaos and pain in those eyes that still somehow looked so beautiful to him. 

Spencer took a step forward, shaking his head harshly and Seth watched his thinly assembled calm slip away, sudden and with alarming speed.   
“I told you... I don't know if I'll be able to live with this pain, if I can go on...BUT I know that I need you to even try. I don't care if it's sick, or how often you call me crazy or that you suddenly feel guilty. It is what it is and I cannot even imagine being without you. Even if I want to, I can't, okay?”

Spencer's voice cracked over the last words, and even though Seth knew it was already too late he still tried to stay calm, to evade the inevitable collapse of their fragile status quo.

“It will take time, therapy...it will get better-”

“Oh, yeah?” Spencer snapped, taking another step with flashing eyes, “And until it does, will you be there, Seth? After I go back to my life?“

“Spencer-”

“No! Where will you be, Seth?! Say it!”

Seth clenched his jaw, face darkening. “Where I belong,” he finally ground out.

No point in sugarcoating or trying to lie. Spencer wasn't really asking, he was accusing.

So he said it out loud, what they both knew. He didn't know if his future would be prison and death row or actual death, but he knew it was going to be one of those two options, and rightfully so. Even if he had thought he deserved anything more, there would be no chance at that in Spencer's world. 

The anguish on Spencer's face told him the young agent knew exactly what he was thinking. What he didn't expect was for that pain to turn into grim, stoic determination instead of despair. He'd forseen the collapse, not this-

“So there's your answer. I'm not leaving you, so I'm not going back. If I go anywhere after this, it will be with you. Without you, I'll die.”   
Somehow, Spencer managed to look unbreakable and impossibly fragile at the same time, like no force in the universe could move him but the tiniest word shatter him. 

Seth stared at him, anguished, wordless. There was nothing he could say. The worst part was, Spencer didn't even sound crazy voicing his insane conclusions. What he was saying wasn't his twisted, warped wish, it was a logical conclusion, a fact that couldn't be denied.   
He didn't doubt it might well kill Spencer if he left him. 

“Staying with me will kill you just as likely,” he said, toneless, throat tight.   
Helplessness made anger boil deep in his chest, making him want to punch something, but Spencer's gaze made him want to turn around and crawl into a hole somewhere. 

“So there's no gain in separating,” Spencer's eyes were pinned on him with stubborn single-mindedness as he took that last step that left him standing much too close to Seth. His hand curling into Seth's burned, shame and longing running up his arm like current.   
Seth ground his teeth so hard it hurt. The urge to crush Spencer to his chest was once again choking out the desire to stop this insanity between them. He couldn't bring himself to move when Spencer leaned in, bringing their lips together. 

“Tell me you won't leave me,” Spencer muttered against his mouth, breath hot on his skin. His slender fingers curled into the hair at the back of his neck. There wasn't enough will left in Seth to even back up an inch, to lift a single finger to stop him. 

“Promise me we'll be together,” Spencer whispered, kissing him again, and Seth finally crumbled right along with him, pulling him close. Just one second....just this once.... 

“I promise.”

He wondered if this would be the last lie he told Spencer before their time was up.


	84. Chapter 84

Seth wouldn't have thought that Spencer would ever believe in any of his reassurances again, but whether it was the best performance he'd ever given or simply Spencer wanting to believe him, somehow he did. They made it through another day, relatively safe and stable, although everyone on the compound could feel the tension rising. 

The day before the heist, Joe finally told Seth where Spencer would be during. He wasn't coming with them to the bank obviously, and Seth wouldn't have wanted him there anyway.  
He was going to go with Eddie, and later be brought back to the compound. 

Joe only rolled his eyes when Seth threatened again what would happen if he got hurt, disinterested as he assured him that he'd get Spencer back as long as he kept up his end of the bargain.

He wouldn’t of course. The police would storm the bank and kill or arrest all the bank robbers.  
But it wouldn’t be much trouble to make sure that some unmarked cars tailed Eddie and Spencer when they left in the morning, not when he had an agent he could call about that.

“Shouldn't be anyone else there. Just he and Eddie,“ he told Morgan on the phone, “Maybe Joe, but he's old and slow. Don't worry about the others, you know where they'll be. Just keep eyes on Spencer.“

This was the only part that worried him, not being able to control at all times where Spencer would be, not being a hundred percent sure that he’d get out without a scrape. There wasn’t another way to do this though. All he had to comfort him was the knowledge that at least Morgan wouldn’t slack on keeping surveillance on Eddie at all times. 

“He's barely stable,” he added reluctantly, because Morgan had to know, “Don't let him out of your sight after you get him out, even if he tells you he's fine.”

It was a bitter pill to ask Morgan for help, even for this, even it was clear as day to everyone involved already whose fault the situation was. 

Morgan, to his credit, barely engaged. “I'll get him out. And keep him safe. No matter what.“

“Good,“ Seth knew the implication of Morgan's tone, but he would actually welcome it at this point if Eddie and Joe got a bullet in the head. It would probably be best. Clean. The fastest way out for Spencer, too. The sooner every hope of them staying together was crushed the sooner he could begin to heal. It might be too late, true, but if there was any chance...

“What about you?“ Morgan asked then and Seth frowned, confused for a second, until Morgan clarified, “You are the only variable I can't predict. Are you going to let yourself be arrested?“

Seth smiled mirthlessly. “Worried I'll get myself shot, agent?“

“No,“ Morgan said seamlessly and Seth huffed, vaguely amused.

“Just focus on Spencer.“ 

And with that, he hung up.

Xxx

That night when they turned in, he told Spencer about the plan, told him to do everything Eddie demanded.

“Just a couple more hours,“ he made sure to stress, carding his fingers soothingly through Spencer's hair, “Not much longer.” 

He wanted to remind the other of his mother and friends again, anything to maybe raise the will to survive, but he didn't want to risk setting him off again, not on their last night together, not when it would likely be pointless anyway. 

“How high are the chances we'll survive this, you reckon?” Spencer murmured into his shoulder.

Seth squeezed him tightly for a moment. “I won't let anything happen to you.”

“It might not be your choice.” 

Seth pulled himself upright, cupping Spencer's jaw to look down at him intently, “We are going to breeze through this, nice and easy. Alright? You gotta believe me.”

Spencer just looked up at him out of large hazel eyes, his face as smooth as a glued-together vase. “Just tell me we'll be together no matter what.”

It took all the strength Seth had to keep his own expression even. He nodded, with barely a second's delay.   
This time though, Spencer didn't relent as easily, didn't simply take him at his questionable word. 

He pushed himself up on his elbows as well, bringing them face to face, a breath apart. “Prove it.”

Seth pulled back, straining to keep the motion small and smooth. He understood what Spencer was saying, saw it in his face, but he couldn't....he'd sworn to himself-

“I promised Derek Morgan I wouldn't touch you again.”

If he'd thought that the mention of his friend would throw Spencer off, or make him rethink, he'd been gravely wrong. The younger man barely winced, and Seth saw him harshly push down any upcoming emotion in less than a second.   
“Since when do you give a damn about anyone but me?” he whispered, breath hitting Seth's lips with calculation.   
The question was so clear, it said so much about how Spencer had changed that it filled Seth with horror and pride and seething heat at the same time. 

'I don't.'

He swallowed hard.

“It's you I'm- “ “No. No, you promised,” Spencer cut him off, eyes flickering dangerously. 

For a moment, Seth was sure he'd pull away, curl into himself, end this in resentment. But Spencer caught himself, single-minded focus driving him once more. His slender hands wound up in Seth's collar, pulling him close again, chest to chest.   
“This could be it, Seth. If this is it....” he swallowed hard, tears welling up in his eyes, “I want to go back to that day on the boat. I don't want to think about anything but the realization that all that matters is that I love you. I was nothing but happy then, not scared of anything, least of all the future. Please...I just want to feel that again....feel something other than this-”

Pain, regret, hopelessness.

Spencer didn't say any of that. Instead, he pressed his lips to Seth's desperately. Seth didn't stop him again. He'd burn for this....yes. But probably not much longer than he was already scheduled for. His only hesitance was the knowledge that he was hurting Spencer....but, looking at him now, hearing him....he looked so convinced, so much like he needed and wanted, and loved-

It was their last night. Ever. He'd likely never see Spencer again after this night. So many times he'd feared this day had come but here it finally was now. 

“Please,” Spencer's lips grazed his ear, lithe body pressing close. “Come back there with me. Close your eyes....feel the breeze on your face....the water...you caught me then....you always catch me...”

“Yes”, Seth turned his face, catching Spencer's lips. His fingers tangled in long locks of their own accord, helpless, like he was actually lost at sea, desperate for any hold. “Always.”

They sank down into the sheets, forgetting about sleep altogether.


	85. Chapter 85

The morning came too soon.  
Someone knocked on their door loudly, calling, and Spencer startled out of a fitful doze, fingers instantly clawing at Seth's bare shoulders.  
Seth had the same gut reaction, but the banging got louder, more insistent, and so he unwillingly disentangled himself, lips fleetingly brushing the side of Spencer's head in reassurance before he got up.

“I heard you the first time!” he snapped as he unlocked the door, face set in anger expecting the same young man who usually came to deliver messages. Instead, he found Eddie standing in front of him, an impatient look on his face.   
“Get moving,” he commanded, “Schedule's moved up and we can't be running behind.”  
“Gimme a minute,” Seth nodded, attempting to push the door back shut, but Eddie blocked it, stepping across the threshold. “We don't got a minute, Seth. Let's go, both a ya.”

Seth cursed internally as he nodded, quickly moving to grab his weapons.

Spencer was out of bed, looking pale as he shrugged on his clothes carelessly. Seth bit his lip against saying anything, knowing he couldn't and merely tried for a calming expression as he looked over at him. 

It wasn't supposed to go like this, this fast...but he had no time to falter, to lose the concentration he would need today. He forced himself to get into the mindset he had to as he fastened one gun under his suit jacket. When Eddie turned for a moment to glance down the corridor, Seth quickly slipped another small gun into his boot, pretending to tie up his shoe lace. 

Looking up, he saw Spencer watching him, hands subtly twitching by his sides. Seth suddenly wished he'd given Spencer a gun, despite the risk, just so he wouldn't have to go with Eddie and be completely on his own- but it was too late for that now, Eddie was watching again. 

He straightened up and walked up to put a hand on Spencer's shoulder, blocking their expressions from Eddie for a second.   
“We'll be back in an hour,” he muttered, the best he could dare to say now. Anything more sentimental....it wasn't so much about Eddie seeing, even though it might give him more ammunition....more than that it was the fear that if they allowed emotions now, he'd do something stupid and they wouldn't even make it out of this room. 

Spencer nodded, pale, looking for a second like he'd answer, but in the end he merely squeezed Seth's wrist hidden between their bodies. 

“Let's go,” Eddie urged, and then they were moving, down the hall and outside where everybody was already waiting, motors running. 

They didn't say goodbye.

There was no more room for sentimentality, no chance even to touch.

Seth reluctantly let go of Spencer's upper arm when Eddie walked up, ready to take over. Spencer stepped back, instinctively, but Seth stilled him with one pointed squeeze of his shoulder.  
“I will see you two at the ware house with the diamonds,“ he said pointedly.

Eddie nodded, giving no sign that he wasn't going to follow through with the plan. All he cared about in the end was the money.

“Alright, fellas,“ Joe boomed, looking over all of them, “You know your stations, you know the time schedule. I will see you all  in an hour.“

And with that, White, Orange, and Brown left to get into their car, and Eddie grabbed Spencer's arm to shove him towards his own. One last anxious glance over his shoulder, which Seth tried to counter with a confident, reassuring one, then Spencer was gone, and Seth was left with Vic, fighting the urge to run after him.

“You need a moment there, buddy?“ Vic grinned, eyes flashing viciously.

Seth didn't even bother glaring at him. Soon Vic would be in his past as well. He didn’t have room now for anything but making this plan work.

“Let's go,“ he said and walked out to Vic's car. They got in and started driving, another route than the rest of them. He did his hardest not to try and look for unmarked police cars. Morgan had it. He wouldn't lose Spencer. Focus. He needed to focus.

“So you must be pretty happy,“ Vic broke through his thoughts, grinning at him from the side, “Soon you're getting your sweetheart back all to yourself. Got a new honeymoon spot in mind yet? Maybe a nice secluded cabin in the woods this time? I bet you're sick of Joe's thin walls, huh?“

Seth didn't answer, counting the rounds in his gun in silence. Focus.

“Well, I'm happy for you, man, I can tell that what you and Goldilocks have is really special. Too bad your little bro couldn't be there for it, eh? Or is that why you offed him? Too much competition?“

Seth holstered his gun, teeth grinding on each other as he stared straight ahead.  
They parked in front of the bank, and he briefly glanced at where he expected Brown's car to be. Good, the others were already inside, posing as customers. They were the last. Seth took a deep breath, then he got the ski-mask out of the glove department and pulled it over his head. Vic shot him one last grin before doing the same.

“Showtime, baby.“


	86. Chapter 86

The moment they entered the bank, all hell broke lose. Seth caught sight of White and Orange as they broke out of the line, drawing their guns and firing at the ceiling, shouting, and then people were screaming, diving to the floor, all except them and-  
Seth stopped dead in his tracks, heart dropping into his stomach as he caught sight of the two men still standing upright by the back door.  
Eddie, gun in hand.  
Spencer.  
For one horrible second, everything around him stopped, time freezing along with his brain, and all he could see was Spencer staring at him, wide-eyed and stark white - then rage and horror slammed into him at the same time, propelling him forward.  
Eddie caught sight of him and grabbed Spencer more tightly, gun visibly in hand, finger on the trigger. Seth froze again, petrified while all around them was pandemonium. The gangsters were still shouting threats and commands, rushing to their marks, and Brown was yelling at him to move, to run towards the safe room, but Seth couldn’t move-  
The sound of the alarm pierced the air, sudden and shrill, making people scream and cover their ears instinctively. Seth's eyes snapped around, focused for one second on a black girl in a white blouse who looked around with frightened eyes, one hand on the alarm button – one second, then thunder clapped and her chest exploded in a splash of red. More gun shots even as she went down, and another woman cried out, wailing until Vic went up to her and shot her point blank as well, right between the eyes.  
Instinct finally kicked in for Seth and he dove towards Spencer when Vic started shooting wildly at random customers. He made it two steps before the bank doors burst open again, and he heard a horribly familiar voice shout, “FBI! FREEZE!!!“  
He didn't have to turn around, one glance at Spencer's horror-stricken face was enough to know it was Morgan, along with all the cops that had been waiting outside.  
No, no, NONONO- it was all wrong, he wasn't supposed to be here- Spencer was supposed to be safe-  
He saw both Eddie and Vic's eyes follow Spencer's, drawn by the voice, saw their expressions when they recognized Morgan, and knew his game was up. Not losing another second, he rushed towards Eddie and Spencer. Eddie caught himself, dragging Spencer back towards the back exit, but Seth was faster, he would get them-  
Searing pain shot through his shoulder, exploding in his muscles and throwing him to the ground. The world disappeared for mere seconds, dissolved in nothing but fiery agony, before he could get his feet under him again.  
He stumbled towards the door, but Spencer was nowhere in sight, all he could see was Vic vanishing around the corner, Morgan hot on his heels.  
He didn't turn around to see anything or anyone else, just stumbled over the twisted bodies, skidded through thick smears of blood on the floor, until he reached the door-  
“SPENCER!!!“  
But they were gone.  
Behind him, the police was closing in.

xxx  
Seth stumbled out of the building, one hand clutching his gun, the other pressed to his bleeding shoulder. The pain was blinding, tearing him apart with every step, but he couldn't stop to check if the bullet was still inside.  
Spencer. Eddie and Vic. And Morgan. They'd seen Morgan. They knew he hadn't killed him. Worse, they knew Morgan was a cop. That Seth had betrayed them. Spencer. Ohgodno.  
He ran as fast as he could, rounded enough corners until he wasn't in sight of the bank anymore, then he started looking for a car he could hot wire. He needed to get to Cabot.  
xx  
Morgan couldn’t help but curse as he ran out of the bank after the men who had taken Reid, again.  
It had all gone wrong.  
Gecko had said that Reid wouldn't be taken to the bank, that they'd be able to apprehend Eddie Cabot separately and away from this place.  
But Cabot had driven them straight to the bank, pulling Reid inside before they'd been able to react.  
Going in would have meant blowing the whole thing before all the gangsters were inside -not having gone inside meant that now Reid was gone, in terrible danger, and he'd failed him yet again.  
Morgan ran, not allowing himself to look back and think of the blood bath that was happening inside the bank now.  
He had to get Reid. They had recognized him. If he didn't get to Reid now, he was dead.  
He rounded a corner, stopping for a second to look for where the men had run to, when something hit him in the head from behind, and the world went dark in a hail of stars.  
Xxx  
Fuckfuckfuck, was all Freddy could think through the haze of pain as Larry raced him through the streets, further away from the bank.  
Within seconds it had all gone to hell in a hand-basket. People were dead...Mr. Blonde had lost it, Morgan had shown up, Reid had been there...  
It had all been so terribly wrong.  
And then Larry had grabbed his arm and dragged him outside, shouting at him to run. And he had, because even with everything gone to hell, he still had a job to do.  
They'd run until they were almost hit by a woman driving her car on the street. Before he knew it, Freddy was pointing his gun at her, shouting at her to get out of the car. He tried to drag her but she pulled a gun and...and...  
He blinked rapidly, an insane grin on his face as he stared at the car's inside's splashed with blood. His blood.  
“She shot me, Larry,“ he wheezed, curling around the bullet hole in his stomach, “She fucking shot me.“  
Worse than that. He'd shot her. Left her and her baby dead on the asphalt.  
It wasn't supposed to end like this. It was all wrong.  
Larry grasped his hand, squeezing it tightly as he raced through the streets. “Hang in there! You're gonna be alright. I'ma get you help.“

Another hysterical bout of laughter bubbled out of him, leaving him breathless and seeing stars.  
It was too late for help.


End file.
